Book Review: Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy, by Jane Leavy (2002)

Paperback cover of Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy, by Jane Leavy, 2002.

Sandy Koufax pitching in Game 7 of the 1965 World Series, against the Minnesota Twins. Despite pitching on two days' rest and only using his fastball, Koufax shut out the Twins on three hits.

Author Jane Leavy.

Although Sandy Koufax only played professional baseball for twelve years, he still ranks as one of the most legendary baseball players of the 20^th century. Koufax came up with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1955. He had a blazing fastball, but not much control over it. After the 1960 season, Koufax’s record was 36-40. His ERA was 4.10. From 1961 to 1966, Sandy Koufax simply dominated opposing batters. His record was 129-47, an incredible winning percentage of .733. His ERA had gone down to 2.76. 

Koufax won 3 Cy Young Awards, in 1963, 1965, and 1966, at a time when the award was given to just one pitcher, rather than one in each league. He was the unanimous winner each time. All three years Koufax won the Cy Young Award he also won the pitching Triple Crown, leading the league in strikeouts, wins, and ERA. Koufax was the NL MVP in 1963, and finished second in the voting in 1965 and 1966. He led the NL in ERA five years in a row, from 1962-1966. He led the league in strikeouts four times, setting a new single-season strikeout record of 382 in 1965. Koufax also set a record by pitching four no-hitters, including a perfect game in 1965. During Koufax’s 12 years with the Dodgers, they made it to the World Series six times, and he was the World Series MVP in 1963 and 1965.  

Diagnosed with arthritis in his left elbow, Koufax’s final two seasons, 1965 and 1966, were marked by extreme pain and super-human pitching performances. Rather than risk permanent damage to his elbow and arm, Koufax retired after the 1966 season, just weeks away from his 31^st birthday. 

In her book Sandy Koufax: A Lefty’s Legacy, author Jane Leavy examines Koufax’s career, and his continued hold on the public’s imagination. Koufax has a reputation for being a very private person, and although Leavy communicated with Koufax during her writing of the book, he never sat down for an interview with her. 

Leavy deliberately didn’t try to pry into Koufax’s personal life, and thus she didn’t interview his two ex-wives or any of his former girlfriends. This begs the question: is it right to write a biography of someone without interviewing, or trying to interview, such key figures in someone’s life? It’s up to the individual biographer, I suppose, but anyone looking for dirt on Sandy Koufax won’t find it here. However, you shouldn’t get the impression that Leavy didn’t do her homework on this book, because she certainly did, interviewing 469 people who are connected to Sanford Koufax in one way or another. 

Because Leavy doesn’t closely examine Koufax’s private life, there isn’t much material on his post-baseball life, so the book is essentially about Koufax’s playing career. The book uses Koufax’s 1965 perfect game against the Chicago Cubs as a framing device, and chapters alternate between a chronological look at Koufax’s life, and the innings of his perfect game. Koufax’s perfect game was pretty incredible. At that stage of his career, Koufax basically only had two pitches: a blazing fastball and a devastating, swooping curveball. The only problem was that Koufax also inadvertently tipped his pitches, giving the batters a clue as to what was coming. Even with that knowledge, the Cubs batters, including future Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, and Ron Santo, were unable to reach base against him that night. 

I learned a lot about Sandy Koufax from Leavy’s biography, and one of the most interesting things is that he didn’t play a lot of baseball in high school. His best sport was basketball, and Leavy tells the story of 17-year-old Koufax dunking when his high school team played the New York Knicks. For whatever reason, Koufax wasn’t scouted by the NBA, and after pitching one season at the University of Cincinnati, Koufax was already being scouted by the Brooklyn Dodgers, his hometown team. 

Koufax was signed by the Dodgers for a $14,000 bonus, and because his signing bonus was over $4,000, he had to spend two years in the major leagues before he could be sent to the minor leagues. The Dodgers never ended up sending Koufax down to the minor leagues, but Koufax only threw 100 1/3 innings for the Dodgers over those first two seasons. Sending Koufax to the minor leagues for more seasoning might have helped his overall development as a pitcher. 

I was surprised when reading the book to learn how muscular Koufax was. Wayne “Doc” Anderson, the Dodgers’ trainer in the 1960’s said Koufax had “extreme muscles, the largest I ever worked on, including Ted Kluszewski and Frank Howard.” (p.148) Maybe it was because so often Koufax was pictured next to his rotation mate Don Drysdale, who stood 6’5” that I never realized how tall and muscular Sandy Koufax was. But Koufax was listed at 6’2”, and numerous people throughout the book testify to his very muscular physique. 

One of the most famous things Sandy Koufax did in his career was to not start Game 1 of the 1965 World Series, because it fell on Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar. Koufax’s longtime friend Tom Villante said, “When that happened, he transcended being a player and became a symbol.” (p.171) Throughout the book, Leavy highlights the devotion of Koufax fans. People who have just the tiniest shred of a connection to him come up to her, wanting to share their stories. 

From the beginning of his career, Koufax was thought to be different from the average baseball player. An article from March of 1955 carried the headline: “Koufax, Unorthodox, Reads Books.” (p.176) Koufax’s reluctance to seek out the maximum amount of publicity possible has garnered him the label of someone who is aloof. Red Adams, a scout and pitching coach for the Dodgers from 1959-1980, said of Koufax: “Sometimes people are misunderstood for being aloof when they’re really just quiet.” (p.248) I think this is a great point. Koufax’s shyness or aloofness is probably overstated. A recluse would not have worked as a minor league pitching instructor for the Dodgers for ten years, as Koufax did. In some ways, we want to make people like Sandy Koufax more distant than they really are. He doesn’t like publicity? Well, then, he must be an eccentric recluse. On the other hand, he might just be a regular guy who disdains the spotlight of self-promotion—but that’s not as interesting a story. 

There has always been something special about Sandy Koufax. I was born nearly a decade and a half after Koufax last pitched, but yet he’s one of the figures from baseball’s past that fills me with awe. There’s a grace and dignity that Sandy Koufax has had both throughout his baseball career and after his retirement. I remember the surge of emotion I felt when I saw Sandy Koufax in 2004, at the Hall of Fame induction ceremony in Cooperstown. I nearly teared up. Why? I can’t really explain it, other than to say there’s something special about Sandy Koufax. At one of my friend’s bar mitzvahs, there was a drawing for a signed photo of Koufax, and I happened to win it. It’s one of my favorite signed photos, even though I’ve never met Sandy Koufax. I’ve even had a dream about Sandy Koufax. It was sometime in the past year, and instead of a baseball player who hadn’t pitched since 1966, Koufax was a novelist who hadn’t written a book since 1966. Somehow I had tracked him down and found his office in the university where he taught. In my dream, Sandy Koufax looked just like he does today, and he was kind and smiled a lot. When I asked him where he had been since 1966, he laughed, spread his arms to indicate his office, and said, “I’ve been here the whole time!” Maybe that’s the secret to the “real” Sandy Koufax—he’s been right in front of us the whole time.