Let’s Play Two: The Life and Times of Ernie Banks by Doug Wilson. Review by R. Zachary Sanzone.
Any baseball fan worth their salt knows Ernie Banks, a.k.a “Mr. Cub.” The late Chicago Cubs’ infielder played from 1953-1971 after jumping directly from the Negro Leagues into the Majors. His status as a fourteen-time All-Star, member of the 500 Home Run Club, and Baseball Hall of Famer contribute to his reputation as a brilliant baseball player who is also remembered for his upbeat attitude and love for the game. In Doug Wilson’s latest book, Let’s Play Two: The Life and Times of Ernie Banks, baseballs fans meet Mr. Cub and learn about what kind of man Banks was on and off the field. Readers learn about his early days growing up in Dallas, his career with the Cubs, his interactions with teammates like Ron Santo and Don Kessinger, his views on Civil Rights, his relationship with Leo Durocher, and how he struggled to redefine his identity in a post-baseball life.
Wilson’s biography also succeeds in providing details about Banks that are neither too dull nor rich. Some biographers seem to enjoy including overwhelmingly specific detail about their subjects that readers find themselves counting how many pages are left in the chapter. Wilson’s biography of Banks is not one of those books. Wilson skillfully provides his readers with a balance of insightful detail about Banks’ playing days and personal life. What stands out more than anything in Wilson’s biography is his portrayal of an enthusiastic and energetic Ernie Banks. In fact, Wilsons seems to hint that Banks’ generosity and kindness may have been his only flaw. Wilson quotes teammates and opponents alike who felt that Banks’ polite manner was nothing more than a front. Banks’ fondness for saying, “It’s a beautiful day – Let’s play two,” made other ballplayers believe that he was more superficial than genuine, but that impression is inconsistent with man we get to know throughout the book. It’s as though people that embody Banks’ persona are so few and far in between that when we meet them we automatically assume they have a secret agenda. Fortunately, the detail with which Wilson masterfully depicts Banks will leave readers convinced that Banks was nothing other than a man who humbly appreciated every accomplishment he achieved in his lifetime. Wilson’s ability to maintain a consistent view of Banks as a man of integrity is the book’s strongest aspect.
The aspect of the biography that surprised me the most was Wilson’s depiction of Banks as a man who took a passive approach to major issues that affected baseball. Banks had strong feelings about race relations in baseball, especially as a man who grew up in the south, but he wasn’t as vocal about his views as other players like Jackie Robinson were. Banks claimed that he supported Marvin Miller’s plans to provide players with stronger labor rights, but went to spring training in 1969 anyway despite the players’ vow not to report to spring training until a new labor agreement was reached. This defiance does not mean Banks was indifferent to his teammates’ concerns as much as he believed in honoring his contract. I was personally surprised (and happy) to read that Banks took part in the 2010 Chicago Gay Pride Parade after revealing in a 2004 interview that his sister was an alleged lesbian. Whether it was honoring his sister, reaching out to Steve Bartman in the wake of his blunder that arguably cost the Cubs a World Series birth in 2003, or encouraging Sammy Sosa to answer questions about his steroid use, Wilson paints a picture of a man whose personal kindness and devotion to others never faltered.