"Johnny Most, the Celtics' announcer, called me 'Gentleman Jerry,' though perhaps he was subtly mocking me ....
-- Jerry West, "West on West: My Charmed, Tormented Life"
Joe DiMaggio was probably not a nice man.
He was a serial adulterer and absentee father. He hated his time spent in the Army during World War II, exhibiting what was written up as a "conscious attitude of hostility and resistance" toward his duties in his medical records. DiMaggio's superior officer thought he was a malingerer, that the ulcer he constantly complained of was at best a psychosomatic phantom.
If you read Richard Ben Cramer's "Joe DiMaggio: The Hero's Life," you'll find plenty more anecdotes about how petty and boorish DiMaggio could be. Cramer maintains some residual admiration for DiMaggio as a player, but the general work of the book is the deconstruction of the icon. He exposes DiMaggio as human and flawed and bristling with pain, jealous of Mickey Mantle and dismissive of the great Ted Williams, who, he said, threw "like a broad" and ran "like a ruptured duck."
DiMaggio couldn't even maintain a cordial relationship with his brother Dominic, who played alongside Williams in the Red Sox outfield (and was by all accounts a courtly and kind man). In his memoir, "Real Grass, Real Heroes," Dom portrayed Joe as his supportive older brother. In real life, Joe suggested Dom only got to the big leagues because of the name on the back of his jersey. Whenever Joe arrived at a party or function, Dom knew to leave, lest his brother accuse him of basking in reflected glory.
There are worse stories in Cramer's book, which appeared the year after DiMaggio died. Maybe we could have done without it, maybe the myth of the elegant Yankee Clipper is worth more to our society than the truer version of DiMaggio that Cramer offers.
My DiMaggio was always a received notion; I never saw him play but in archival reels.
I did see NBA legend Jerry West play. And I tried to model him, specifically the two-handed reverse lay-up he flipped over his head from just above his waist. When I was 12 years old, I might have said he was my hero. I never thought about whether he was nice, though I assumed that if I ever encountered him that he would probably sign an autograph if I had the nerve to ask. I thought then--as I do now--that most people are decent and inclined to be kind.
West retired as a player when I was in high school and I never thought that much about him after that until recently. A few weeks ago in another section of the newspaper I wrote about the HBO series "Winning Time," about the L.A. Lakers' glory days in the '80s after the team drafted Earvin "Magic" Johnson. West was heavily involved with those Lakers, first as a coach and later as a team executive, and I wrote about how surprised I was at the way he was being portrayed.
The Jerry West in "Winning Time" is a profane, self-destructive, day-drinking depressive who acts out violently when he doesn't get his way. Early in the series he's depicted throwing a trophy through a window.
This doesn't jibe with the gentlemanly image of Jerry West that I'd formed through years of following pro basketball and hearing people talk about him. But I knew Joe DiMaggio wasn't a nice guy, and neither was Michael Jordan or Barry Bonds. Anyone can have a bad day, and lots of people feel entitled. I didn't know Jerry West.
I talked about this portrayal of West on the radio, and Chuck Monan--KABZ 103.7 FM's "pigskin preacher"--directed me to the autobiography West wrote with Jonathan Coleman, the remarkable "West by West: My Charmed, Tormented Life," which came out in 2011.
"West by West" is not like any other sports biography I've read. There's relatively little about West's glorious playing career, either at West Virginia University or with the Lakers. It is a little like "Joe DiMaggio: The Hero's Life," except the writer deconstructing the hero's life is the hero himself.
West insists on cataloging his demons: his inability to enjoy any sort of success, his tragic childhood and abusive father, his congenital lack of self-esteem, his "aloof and inscrutable and unpredictable" personality which caused him to be, in his first marriage, a bad husband and father. Jerry West is every bit as hard on himself as Cramer is on DiMaggio.
You come away from the book hurting for West, but respecting him. I don't know how much he actually wrote himself--he's candid throughout about the interviews Coleman conducted on his behalf, and the discussions they had about the sort of book it would be--but the voice feels authentic, intelligent and honest. West might not have written every word, but the book is written in his voice.
I can see how the writers of "Winning Time"--a fictionalized product based on sportswriter Jeff Pearlman's non-fiction book "Showtime: Magic, Kareem, Riley and the Los Angeles Lakers Dynasty of the 1980s"--could have mined material from "West By West" to rationalize their portrayal of West as self-loathing creature. But the "West By West" character is more nuanced than the Yosemite Sam who ricochets around the screen in "Winning Time" as a kind of comic relief.
It's easy to see why West objects to the characterization. Last week his lawyers sent a letter to "Winning Time" producers Adam Mc-Kay and Kevin Messick, accusing them of perpetrating "an egregious wrong on a good and decent man." They included testimonials from players and others who worked with West over the years.
"'Winning Time' falsely and cruelly portrays Mr. West as an out-of-control, intoxicated rage-aholic," the letter reads. "The Jerry West in 'Winning Time' bears no resemblance to the real man. The real Jerry West prided himself on treating people with dignity and respect. 'Winning Time' is a baseless and malicious assault on Jerry West's character. You reduced the legacy of an 83-year-old legend and role model to that of a vulgar and unprofessional bully--the polar opposite of the real man."
It asks for an apology and that the producers somehow "retract their portrayal" of West. Left unstated is the threat of legal action.
Sure, they could sue. You can sue anyone for any reason in this country.
I don't think West could prevail at trial, and I think he probably understands that. He is certainly a public figure; his silhouette was famously used for the NBA logo. Part of what comes with fame and fortune is a certain loss of control of one's own persona; we can make fun of famous people, we can satirize their vanities. We can put them in comic books and have actors play them in movies. Artists can use their public images for their own purposes.
We need to be able to mock and poke at them. Society is served by free and boisterous discourse.
But not all protected speech is worth attending.
pmartin@adgnewsroom.com