Big Hair and Plastic Grass: A Funky Ride Through Baseball and America in the Swinging '70s

 

What compelled you to write this book?

About ten years ago, I went in search of a good book on '70s baseball; I was born in 1966, so this was the era when I first fell in love with the sport, and I wanted to relive some of those memories, and maybe gain a greater understanding of the period. At the time, the only thing out there that came even close to what I was looking for was Phil Pepe's Talkin' Baseball: An Oral History of Baseball in the 1970s; but while that's a highly enjoyable read (and one I would recommend to anyone interested in the era) I didn't feel like it showed as much appreciation for the funkiness and uniqueness of the era as much as I would have liked--nor have any other of the decade-spanning '70s baseball books that have been published since then. I don't come from a sportswriting background--music and pop culture has been my beat for the past two decades--but I felt that, as a baseball fan, a student of pop culture, and a child of the '70s, I could write a love letter to '70s baseball that also truly celebrated the weirdness of the period.

I have a theory that some of the excesses of 1970s baseball--huge afros, crazy facial hair, drugs, wacky uniform designs, etc.--were the product of the sport desperately trying to catch up after being so resolutely square for so long. Your thoughts?

I would have to vehemently disagree--who exactly in the baseball establishment was desperately trying to be hip? Commissioner Bowie Kuhn was as square as they came, and would have been happiest if baseball had resembled a perpetual Norman Rockwell painting; most of the team owners and executives (with the notable exceptions of Bill Veeck and Ted Turner) weren't much hipper. I think the "excesses" you mention were more the result of the freak flag-flying spirit of the late '60s finally worming its way into all elements of mainstream America, baseball included. Think of the JC Penney fashion catalogs from the '70s with all the wacky leisure suits and patterned shirts with giant collars--white, middle-class Americans actually wore that shit without batting an eye, but they wouldn't have even dared to do so ten years earlier. You also had players coming up to the majors who had been college students in the late '60s and early '70s, and thus felt more comfortable engaging the sort of self-expression (ranging from facial hair to outspoken sharing of political beliefs) and drug use that would have been unthinkable in the majors just a decade earlier. And while I do think many of the baseball uniforms of the era were reflective of the more flamboyant trends in '70s male fashion, they were chiefly designed to look impressive on color TV--a device which most American households didn't own until the 1970s.

Arguably, the two greatest teams of the 1970s were a study in contrasts: the '72-'74 Oakland A's--a hirsute, hard living, pugnacious bunch--and The Big Red Machine--a mostly strait-laced group that was forbidden to grow long hair or beards. If you had to pick one (not necessarily for purely baseball reasons), which team do you prefer and why?

Just from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I'm always gonna side with a team of hairy, ornery dudes in gold jerseys and white shoes. But while the Big Red Machine was obviously a force to be reckoned with, the '72-'74 A's were the most well-rounded team of the era. Like the Reds, they had speed and power, but they also had much stronger pitching (Catfish Hunter, Vida Blue, Kenny Holtzman, Rollie Fingers, et al.). And not only did the A's win three straight World Series, but they also won five straight AL West crowns ('71 through '75) and came very close to winning a sixth in '76. Sorry, Joe Morgan--the A's were the one true dynasty of the '70s.

Let's say I'm a younger baseball fan unfamiliar with the game in the 1970s. What is the one event/team/player who would clue me in to the awesomeness of this era?

God, there are so many to choose from, and for so many different reasons. But I guess Bill Lee or Dock Ellis would be the most obvious choices. Both men were way more outspoken, irreverent, hip and intelligent than your stereotypical major leaguers, both had great taste in music, and they both engaged in some pretty epic battles with the conservative baseball establishment. And, of course, Lee advocated pot use and Ellis pitched a no-hitter on LSD--but they were also incredible competitors who loved the game, and never let their teammates down on the field. If we're going to pick a single event, I'd have to go with the Atlanta Braves' Wet T-Shirt Night in 1977; they just don't do baseball promotions like that anymore!

Looking back on it now, which player most exemplifies the 1970s?

See above.