Cobb

This 1916 portrait shows us Ty Cobb

in his Detroit Tigers uniform.

The Georgia Peach.

Note the smug expression and the haunting set of eyes.

These disturbing eyes can be seen

in the earliest photo ever taken of young Ty.

Here we see the famous swing of the great Ty Cobb.

Turn the clock back to the beginning of the century

when America first embraced baseball

and the exchanging of the ground rules

became a pregame ritual that survives to this day.

At that time, professional baseball was a casual game,

with a circus atmosphere.

Baseball players were often clowns,

and pregame antics took on the flavor of vaudeville.

But young Ty Cobb would have none of that.

He turned the game into war,

and in the process, invented the modern game as we know it.

Here we see him running over a first sacker on a drag bunt,

a play he perfected.

The aggressive attacking game was virtually Cobb's invention.

Infielders and catchers often bled from his spikes.

Cobb would fight any man, on or off the field, at the drop of a hat.

Batting champion 12 times,

he averaged over .300 for 23 consecutive years

and averaged over .400 for a five-year stretch.

His lifetime batting average of .367 has never been seriously approached.

The first celebrity athlete in American history,

movie stars and presidents all sought his company.

Here Cobb poses with his great archrival, the legendary Babe Ruth.

Here we see Cobb with one of his five children,

his little daughter Shirley.

Here he poses with some kids from the neighborhood.

And here he shows his son his curious hands-apart grip,

though he was unable to teach his flaming competitive heart.

Charged with fixing games in 1926,

Cobb was roundly supported by the children of America,

who came to the great batsman's defense.

The supposed scandal proved to be much ado about nothing

when baseball commissioner Judge Landis

fully acquitted the Georgia Peach of all wrongdoing.

...that is the very backbone of America itself.

Near the end of his career, Cobb joined the Philadelphia Athletics,

and, at the age of 41,

he batted .323 and retired shortly thereafter,

telling the world, "If a man can't hit better than that, he ought to quit."

Ty Cobb dominated the game as no man ever has.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, what a ball player.

Hey, Stump.

Stumpy!

Gentlemen.

- Get over here! We got to settle this. - Stump! Come on!

Congrats, Al.

Four pieces in national magazines this month.

- Five. - Oh, well. You're the man, Stumpy.

Stumpy, 3:45. You're late. Where have you been?

Stumpy, best fighter, pound for pound?

Joe Louis. Champ 11 years.

Walker Smith Jr., better known to you dilettantes as Sugar Ray Robinson.

The Rock, for Christ's sake, retired undefeated, 49 and zip.

Henry Armstrong held three titles at the same time.

- No other fighter... - Look at us. Look at us.

We call ourselves writers, and all we do is watch ball games,

argue about everything, and just get drunk a lot.

- You call that writing? - Yeah.

Besides, Alan here is writing a serious novel, aren't you?

Yeah, well, I... I haven't started yet, but I'm going to.

- I've been very busy... - By the end of this century.

- You told me you had pages. - I...

You're pathetic. The only reason you write is for a paycheck.

Besides, greatest fighter, Harry Greb.

294 fights, no contest. Guy killed everybody.

Harry Greb, my ass. He couldn't beat Harry Belafonte.

- Harry grabbed your ass? - Belafonte... Best singer, male, Elvis.

- Perry Como. - Three words. Francis Albert Sinatra.

What about Nat King Cole?

Best king. I've got Henry VIII. Started a new religion, had six wives.

King James had a Bible named after him.

Stump! Phone.

- King Tut. - King David.

King David, best Jew...

Best king. Best king. King Kong.

That's the best monkey.

- Monkey business... - All the Tarzan movies...

- All the Tarzan movies... - Yes, yes.

Cheetah was the favorite.

Who?

Say, who?

Ty Cobb.

Yes, sir, I certainly would.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, I can. Ye...

Yes, sir. Fine. Thank you.

Wow.

Cobb wants to see me.

- Cobb who? - Ty Cobb. How many Cobbs do you know?

Cobb? But Cobb is dead.

Not yet he ain't.

And he wants to tell me the real story of his life before he croaks.

That was Ty Cobb on the phone right there?

I heard he killed a man.

Stumpy, Stumpy, he's crazy. He's meshuga.

Stumpy, listen to me. You got to be careful with Cobb.

Come on, the guy's over 70. What's he going to do, wheeze on me?

I think I can handle him. Besides, he wants to see me.

Cobb wants to see me! Greatest ball player of all time?

- Ty Cobb. - Ty Cobb.

- Ty Cobb. - Ty Cobb.

- I like Ruth. - Ruth?

Babe Ruth. Ever heard of him?

Cobb owned property all over the country,

but in recent years had been staying at his hunting lodge

at Lake Tahoe in the Sierra Nevadas.

The stories of Cobb sharpening his spikes before a game

were as familiar as George Washington and his cherry tree

or Teddy Roosevelt charging up San Juan Hill.

I also knew his reputation for being difficult at best, psychotic at worst.

By his own admission, he set out to hurt his opponents.

In one season alone, he sent 12 men to the hospital.

Bullshit! Go ahead and quit, then, Willie!

Go ahead and quit! Get the hell out of here!

Now, Mr. Cobb, you ain't shit! fuck you!

You ain't no greatest baseball player in the world.

My ass plays better baseball than you.

Well, I'm out of here. You ain't got to tell me to get nowhere.

Now, fuck you, Mr. Cobbs.

Now, I've got too much dignity to spend another moment with you.

I hope you die before the sun comes up, and may you rot in hell.

Oh, excuse me. Who are you?

I'm the writer.

Oh, you mean he actually found someone to take the job?

Well, writer, you got it,

because that man makes somebody dance Yankee Doodle Dandy on his ass.

I'm out of here. I ain't never seen nobody like that man before.

Go on in there. You'll never last a day with that old bastard.

You going to write that shit?

Talking about he's the greatest baseball player of all time.

My ass plays better baseball than him.

And I'm out of here. I ain't never gonna work for you no more.

And don't ask me to come back! I'm free, and I'm glad to be out of here.

This is America, you old motherfucker. Freedom! Freedom!

This is the land of "Oh, say, can you see."

Kiss my ass with a straw!

- -

Mr. Cobb?

Mr. Cobb?

Where's that sportswriter at?

- -

Mr. Cobb?

Mr. Cobb?

Mr. Cobb?

Mr. Cobb?

- Hello, Mr. Cobb. -

Thank you very much, Mr. Cobb, but I don't need this job that bad.

Oh! Oh!

Yes, Mr. Stump, you do need this job that bad.

Now, come on in here and meet the great Ty Cobb!

The old man's nuts. He's nuts.

Okay, now. Don't let him get you.

I won't hurt you. Come in.

I won't hurt you.

Come on in here.

On the violin's Fritz Kreisler.

I'm a great admirer of his.

- I'm also a great admirer of yours. - Thank you.

You are a hopeless romantic

and only a moderate success, however.

Sir, I am the highest-paid sportswriter in America

and not merely a "moderate success."

Of course.

Hand me those green and white pills right there, please.

Right there.

That is an invitation to a testimonial dinner

at the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.

Young man, you're going to take me there.

When is it?

A few weeks.

All the great ones are gonna be there.

The great Mickey Cochrane will be there, "Wahoo" Sam Crawford, Jimmie Foxx,

Rogers Hornsby, the Waner boys.

Goddamn, we used to have some parties, Stump,

I'm going to tell you that right now.

We can't forget.

I won't forget.

Look at me closely, Al.

Lie after lie has been told about me.

My entire life I've been misunderstood.

You are the very fortunate young sportswriter

who has been chosen to tell the true story

of Ty Cobb.

- Great. What's the true story? - That's why you're here.

See, there's two kinds of writers in this life.

The kind that spin endless yarns about tiny little subjects... That's you...

And there's the kind with one big subject that consumes them forever...

that could be you,

because I am that subject.

You okay?

Jameson!

Jameson, get your ass up here.