Munson: The Life and Death of a Yankee Captain (review)

Marty Appel has pitched both ends of a doubleheader. In 1977, he helped write Thurman Munson's autobiography, and now, more than three decades later, he has produced a much fuller and more satisfying biography. Baseball in New York is writ large, and this big book does not buck that tradition. In both heft and import, it does justice to the catcher's life and legend, adding new information, particularly on Munson's early years, and examining in close, excruciating detail the events of August 2, 1979, the day on which he died. Appel's decision to revisit the life of the Yankees' captain is entirely justified. In the earlier book, Munson studiously avoided talking about growing up in Canton, Ohio, and the heinous behavior of his father. Here, Appel is able to explore this dysfunctional relationship and explain why Munson latched onto his wife's family as a substitute for his own. To Munson's credit, he overcame the disadvantages of his own childhood to become a loving husband and father, acceding to his wife's wish to make their permanent home in Canton and spending time with his kids as often as possible, even during the season. That's what caused him to start flying in the first place, that and a desire for the serenity that soloing a small plane can bring. The Yankees gave consent, grudgingly but inevitably.

By the end of July 1979, hope that the Yankees would win a fourth-straight American League pennant and a third-straight World Series was all but gone. New York stood fourteen games behind the Baltimore Orioles, who were playing at a .676 clip and would finish the season with 102 wins. In April, closer Goose Gossage had scuffled with reserve catcher Cliff Johnson in the clubhouse and was lost until mid-July. Bob Lemon, who had replaced Billy Martin as manager the previous July and led the Yankees to an October triumph over the Los Angeles Dodgers, was himself replaced by Martin on June 18. The change did little good. The Yankees lost three-straight road games to the Milwaukee Brewers on July's last weekend and then swept three in Chicago from the White Sox. After Wednesday's night game, the team flew back to Newark Airport, but Munson caught a ride to Palwaukee Airport north of Chicago and flew his new Cessna Citation to Canton, Ohio. He planned to spend Thursday, an off-day, there before flying to New York on Friday.

Munson arrived home about 3:00 am and got up at 7:00 to see his three children. He did not plan to fly that day, but he did drive back to the Akron-Canton airport to give his jet, his fourth plane in little more than a year, the once-over. He met his friend Jerry Anderson, who shared Munson's interests in flying and real estate, and flight instructor David Hall. Impulsively, they decided to take the Citation up to practice a few landings. Three went perfectly fine, but the fourth was marred by pilot error and miscalculation. The plane hit the ground well before reaching the runway and ripped through a grove of trees. Anderson and Hall managed to escape, but they could not free Munson before flames made any rescue impossible. That his neck had already been broken did not matter at the time. The two could not move Munson nor open the left-side door because a tree stump had torn up that part of the plane.

Given his perch as an insider, Appel's decision to insert himself into the narrative in key places is entirely appropriate. After a summer job in 1968 answering Mickey Mantle's fan mail, he took a position in the Yankees' public relations department in 1970. There he watched Munson evolve from an impatient, confident rookie to a hardened veteran who led by gruff example and regularly dismissed the media. Later, Appel worked in the commissioner...