Reviewed by: The Forgotten 1970 Chicago Cubs: Go and Glow by William S. Bike Paul Hensler William S. Bike. The Forgotten 1970 Chicago Cubs: Go and Glow. Charleston, SC: The History Press, 2021. 143 pp. Paperback, $21.99. The portmanteau “nostalgiamentary” comes with a whiff of pejorative connotation that diminishes a topic’s serious historical discussion while overplaying its sentimentality. In William S. Bike’s tale about “the best damn team never to win a pennant,” readers are treated to a pleasant look back, for better and worse (12). In this slender volume the audience gets a solid dose of reliving the Chicago Cubs’ 1970 season shaded with the author’s personal reminiscences, an accounting of the Northsiders’ travails during the baseball campaign. Then a curious coda as to the possible fortunes of this team had the planets and stars aligned so that the Curse of the Billy Goat would not have lasted until well into the twenty-first century. By inserting himself occasionally into the narrative, Bike evinces a connection to how baseball impressed us in our youth, which somehow always has it that things were better in the old days. Optimism running close to the surface, the “go and glow” of the book’s subtitle is attributed to one of Ernie Banks’s cheery slogans indicating that “for 1970 . . . the Cubs will go and glow in 7–0” (20). Roughly half of the book’s chapters lead with brief recaps of national events that add historical context, such as the Kent State shootings or the passing of notable personalities. The mention of the ongoing military draft is relevant because call-ups of ballplayers to active duty had an impact on major league rosters as the Vietnam War dragged on. While discussion of player personnel moves is germane to evaluating a team’s performance, Bike is harsh with the Cubs, especially in the case of their shipping nineteen-year-old Oscar Gamble to the Phillies and the purging of Hank [End Page 126] Aguirre and Ted Abernathy from the pitching staff. The historical record of virtually every ball club is littered with transactions gone awry after a general manager executed a trade in the name of improvement. However, by calling out poor trades and the subsequent better performance of the now ex-Cubs more recently jettisoned, the author undermines his argument about the perceived quality of the book’s team of focus. Several misfortunes—a serious injury to catcher Randy Hundley and a twelve-game losing streak in June that cost the Cubs eight games in the standings—put a crimp in their pennant hopes and conspired to relegate the team to third place in the National League (NL) East for most of the season’s second half. Despite the arrival of pitcher Milt Pappas and outfielder and first baseman Joe Pepitone, both of whom provided valuable contributions after arriving in midseason trades, the team again failed to capture the divisional pennant. The 1970 edition of the Chicago NLers does fit the author’s description of being forgotten. Still, he would have done well to provide more details on how the regular season progressed rather than breezing through it in barely fifty pages. That the Cubs were only a game or two from first place in mid-September rates a closer look at their stalwart effort than the mere ten pages devoted to what truly was an exciting pennant race. Instead, Bike opts to engage in speculation, some of which is unfortunately underpinned by questionable analysis that attempts to plump the credentials of a team that was simply a weak contender. In drawing comparisons with the 1970 NL champion Cincinnati Reds, whose 102 wins were far and away better than any other team in the league, he points out that the Cubs were 17–21 in one-run games but fails to note that the Reds were 27–15 in like contests. Titles are often forged through the diligence of winning close games, a category in which Chicago simply pulled up short. If the 1970 Cubs were, as asserted, the best team to never win a pennant, then why was there no momentum or carryover into 1971 that may...
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