Jewish Jocks: An Unorthodox Hall of Fame ed. by Franklin Foer and Marc Tracy (review)

Remember the “You don’t have to be Jewish to love Levy’s Jewish Rye” ad campaign? I thought of it after reading Jewish Jocks: An Unorthodox Hall of Fame, a highly entertaining and at times irreverent book edited by Franklin Foer and Marc Tracy of The New Republic. The book is about Jews, written by mostly Jews, and it works. And like Levy’s Rye, you don’t have to be Jewish to love it. (Of course it wouldn’t hurt.) Often there is truth in humor, sometimes to our chagrin. We hear a joke, perhaps at our expense, and past the laughter we wonder if there’s some truth there. You’ve probably heard this one: “What’s the shortest book ever written?” Answer: “Jewish Sports Heroes.” But finally a book appears to upend that conventional wisdom.

Jewish Jocks is not exactly what you expect. This starts with the title, which misleads. Fifty sports figures are featured, but a fair number are not even known for athletic prowess. Some ply their skills in realms that one would be generous to call a sport. It hardly matters. The sketches a broad assortment of Jewish athletes, owners, coaches, writers, impresarios, and even the person pivotal in the popularity of competitive eating. Yet all fifty were innovators or made contributions in their own unique way. The theme that emerges is that Jews have made a disproportionate impact on sports—sometimes on the field of play, sometimes not. The subtitle clarifies: “An Unorthodox Hall of Fame.”

That it is. The diversity of subjects is a plus. There are the incomparables, such as Sandy Koufax and Mark Spitz. Some went against type: Goldberg the wrestler, and Sidney Franklin, the Jewish matador. You meet the strategic thinkers, including Red Auerbach and Theo Epstein. Barney Ross and Nancy Lieberman come across as tough-as-nails. With a chuckle you recall that legend-in-his-own-mind, Howard Cosell. Begrudgingly, you admire the determination of Don Lerman eating six pounds of beans in 2½ minutes. You sit with chess genius Bobby Fischer, who defies description.

For almost any reader, there is much to like in Jewish Jocks. A different author essays each figure, each highly regarded—celebrated, even—and the writing here bears out their reputations. Of course, each writer takes a different approach. Some emphasize the religious aspects of their subject, while others simply profile a sports figure who happens to be Jewish. You note such inconsistencies but they do not detract. Many authors used humor quite effectively. And if you like offbeat subjects, they abound. Consider Shep Messing, the outstanding goalie for the New York Cosmos Soccer club. He did not avoid controversy, posing nude, full frontal, for Viva magazine. And he stayed deadpan with the best of them. After one Cosmos victory, Henry Kissinger—of all people—entered the locker room, and Messing told him that he had once attended one of Kissinger’s classes at Harvard, but had fallen asleep.

Jewish boxers, about as common today as leather football helmets, were plentiful in the 1930s and 1940s. Of course, many of them changed their names so their mothers would be none the wiser. Boxer Mushy Callahan was actually Morris Scheer. Artie O’Leary went by the name Arthur Lieberman. Fans of boxing history will be intrigued by the likes of the great lightweight champion Benny Leonard. Then there is the chapter on Barney Ross, boxing champion in three weight divisions, an extraordinary war hero, a drug addict, and eventually a character witness for Jack Ruby.

If you crave even more offbeat figures, then refer back to Don Herman and his eating skills. Besides his way with beans, the guy once ate 3½ pounds of butter in 1½ minutes. Or consider the mysterious Jewish matador from Brooklyn, Sidney Franklin, wowing spectators in Mexico and Europe...