Simpler, Not Easier

A few weeks ago, I bought a snapshot on eBay. It shows Cubs’ outfielder Lou “The Mad Russian” Novikoff standing, glove in hand, with the Wrigley Field bleachers and scoreboard off in the distance. Novikoff belonged to what you might call the “fireplug” school of ballplayers. He stood 5’10” and weighed 185 pounds, at least at the start of his big-league career in 1941. According to his SABR biography, Novikoff’s family were the wrong kind of Christians in imperial Russa. Prudence, not to mention the threat of violence, led them to leave, first doe Armenia, then southern California. “The Mad Russian” was a nickname from Novikoff’s time playing softball. The Cubs were probably hoping for the second coming of Hack Wilson, who was actually four inches shorter than Novikoff. What they got was a part-time outfielder who had one really good season of the four he spent on the North Side. WWII interrupted Novikoff’s career, which ended in 1946 with the Phillies. I vaguely remember journalist Mike Royko having all sorts of Novikoff stories; let’s just say defense was not the man’s strong suit. What I don’t remember is Royko writing anything about Novikoff’s life as the child of immigrants or the difficulties he faced after his baseball career ended. Then again, compassion wasn’t really Royko’s thing. Novikoff isn’t smiling in that picture I have as much as he is trying to put a good face on things. Maybe it was windy that day, which would make playing the outfield even harder. Or maybe he battling a slump or an injury. Or maybe that’s how this child of Russian immigrants learned to smile for the camera. They were simpler times, not easier ones.