Jimmy Piersall
died over the weekend at the age of 87.
Never was an ex-ballplayer, or anyone else for that matter, so unfit for
the broadcast booth, but Bill Veeck put him there anyway.
Veeck thought it
would be fun to pair the opinionated Piersall with the opinionated Harry Caray,
sort of like pairing nitro with glycerin in a Bumper Cars’ ride. Once Caray and Piersall got started, no
player or coach was safe, or owner’s wife, in the case of Mary Frances
Veeck. Piersall went after her for
reasons best known to himself.
The obits and
columns on Piersall, who suffered from bipolar disorder, have been overwhelmingly
positive, though nobody bothered to get a comment from the sportswriter
Piersall once tried to choke, or from former Oriole infielder Lenn Sakata, either. Piersall once blamed Sakata for having
something to do with the attack on Pearl Harbor.
The irony is
that you can draw a straight line from Piersall to Hawk Harrelson, from
unyielding criticism to kneejerk homerism.
We need some sort of rule to bar ex-Red Sox players from taking
broadcast jobs in Chicago.
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