Baseballhead:
Joe, We Hardly Knew Ye

Michael Cox

Like everyone, I woke up yesterday to the news that Joe DiMaggio had passed on, after battling the complications from his cancer surgery for months. I can't say that the events leading up to his death didn't prepare me in some measure, but it was a sad day just the same. Yes, he was 84, and lived a longer, fuller life than most, but there's still a palpable sense of loss.

You see, DiMaggio is an icon, not just of a sport but of American popular culture. He assured his place in baseball history when he hit safely in his 56th consecutive game on July 16, 1941, while drawing crowds comparable to Mark McGwire's magical history tour of 1998. But the Yankee Clipper made his mark in the world outside baseball when he left baseball to join the wartime army after playing in six World Series (winning five) and winning two MVPs.

DiMaggio became a bona fide icon, when he was married to Marilyn Monroe in 1954. The couple was the toast of the entire country, and the union enhanced the reputations of both DiMaggio and Monroe. Although they divorced before the year was out, it was clear that Joe never stopped loving Marilyn, and after she died in 1962, he left flowers at her crypt for many years afterward.

Then, twenty years after retiring from baseball, DiMaggio became a household word all over again as the commercial spokesman for Mr. Coffee. Remember that even in 1972, endorsements were normally for active players, but DiMaggio had an air of grace about him that made him more than a jock huckster. His paternal demeanor helped make Mr. Coffee the success it became.

If you're too young to remember these ads (or worse, are thinking they must have been something like his Lite beer spots), trust me, they weren't as campy as a name like "Mr. Coffee" might imply.

DiMaggio was really the first athlete to utterly transcend the game he played, something that may be seem more common now, but which even the likes of Magic Johnson or Reggie Jackson can only hope for. (Michael Jordan, you say? Let's wait a decade or two and ask that question again.)

Because of his lasting fame, his illness stirred a media frenzy that was only compounded by attempts to guard his privacy. Today's "right to know" media ideal, relying heavily on "unidentified sources," began the deathwatch when he entered the hospital, and in one instance an erroneous NBC crawl actually declared him dead. Running the crawl was a "technician error," NBC explained later. But why were the words "Joe DiMaggio is dead" typed into a computer, ready to run at the push of a button, in the first place?

There are reliable sources for such as a death. The difference is, when those sources give you the news, although you must, you really don't want to believe it.

about the author

Michael Cox wants you to cherish the moments given to you by the players of today, because they should be more than just lines of type in an obituary. Don't worry, Michael will be back to his jovial self before you know it. Send him mail at mc@strikethree.com.