Cobb - The Play

By Robert Palazzo

Awhile ago, I joined two friends for a drive to Cooperstown. As I have said before, living 45 minutes from there and holding a Friend of the Hall of Fame membership is about the best thing this side of Heaven. This evening we were to see a wonderful play on the subject of one of the initial inductees into the Hall of Fame ­ Ty Cobb. The Hall is to be commended for bringing such talent to be enjoyed by fans.

Not knowing what to expect (I thought it was a one person performance similar to that done by Eddie Frierson on another initial inductee, Christy Mathewson ­ Matty), we took our seats and waited for the performance to begin. A curmudgenly, older character walked out on stage dressed in bathrobe and slippers and snarling about how we "...don't know Cobb". Obviously, this play was going to be a retrospective commentary on the life of Ty Cobb as told by a much older, retired, (and we soon find out), dead (or at least at death's doorstep), Cobb.

And in a way, it was; but the approach was ingenious. There would appear on the stage three personifications of the Georgia Peach (" A great myth has to have a great name") ­ a young Cobb, a middle-aged Cobb, and an old Cobb, all expertly portrayed. Rather than appear on stage individually, however, all three simultaneously appear, inhabiting this mental discourse we are viewing within the eldest Cobb's mind. This allows the audience to view the demons that plagued Cobb during his life; along with the contradictions and internal struggles that drove him to be the best but at the same time, fueled his hatred. By all three characters appearing together, (all three or sometimes variations of two), we are able to appreciate the opinions, perceptions, and self-denials he formed during different stages of his life.

While the young Cobb appeared to be an idealist, a cocky one, but an idealist nonetheless, the middle aged Cobb was more opinionated and by now had amassed his million dollar fortune from investments in Coca-Cola and General Motors. "If you played in Detroit, what would you invest in? That's right, General Motors. But did my team-mates listen to me?" The eldest Cobb instead was a man of regret and compassion; and hurt. He was the persona that tried to keep the peace between the young and the middle aged. Regarding periods of his life that the other two wanted to constantly talk about, his response was "Leave it alone. No good will come from bringing it up. Let it go." But the other two wouldn't, which provided the struggle within Cobb to somehow portray himself as a misunderstood man. Instead, it was Cobb who misunderstood himself.

The younger Cobb suspected his mother of having a lover in her room the night she shot and killed his father after mistaking him as an intruder. The middle aged Cobb would have none of that nonsense and the eldest Cobb simply pleaded with both to "Drop it." Also, another of Cobb's demons was always present, the man who Cobb couldn't shake, the one who America put on a pedestal regardless of what he did ­ Babe Ruth. His popularity with the American public tormented the eldest Cobb. "So he hit home runs. Let me tell you how to score a run: one base at a time. Get on first, advance to second, usually with a steal. The second baseman could see I had sharpened my cleats on the dug out steps. Get to third; and then the most daring, exciting play in baseball ­ stealing home. It's just you and the catcher; you can't beat the pitch to home plate. So you got to take out the catcher ­ do whatever you have to do, break his arm, his leg, whatever. Let's see Ruth do that."

Into this schizophrenic experience Cobb is having enters Oscar Charleston, known in his time as the Black Cobb. Although both the eldest and middle aged Cobbs deny knowing him (or at least that is their claim), it is the young Cobb who admits to recognizing him. Charleston seems to be Cobb's conscience, for it is he who wants to discuss the battles that Cobb was in during his life. The eldest Cobb knows that "No good will come from talking with Charleston." He tells the other two¸ "Ignore him. Don't talk to him." But the middle aged Cobb welcomes this topic and is prepared to defend his every action. As for the eldest Cobb, he simply dismisses the situations as "myth".

Charleston introduces another of Cobb's demons. He wants to make clear to Cobb that all of Cobb's achievements on the field were, at best tainted, at worst non-existent, since Cobb never played against the stars of the Negro Leagues. Could this be something that ate within Cobb all his life, not knowing how he would have performed against them? There was a poignant scene in which Charleston talks about how he wasn't inducted into the Hall of Fame until the 1970's, and the following year he was forgotten again. And with that he took his bat and stormed off stage. All the eldest Cobb could do was say it wasn't his fault.

Despite his numerous financial donations and charitable causes after retirement, including building a hospital, it appears that the legacy of Ty Cobb was that his character flaws were too much to overcome, and perhaps his strengths were also his weaknesses. In Ty Cobb, we find baseball's most competitive spirit was also baseball's most troubled and confused soul.

Hats off to the fine actors in this performance and to the playright, Lee Blessing.