Yes, Cobb was a monster both on and off the field, a monster in part created by his team mates as well as by the fans who accepted his behavior in deference to his talent, driven by many demons, not the least of which was the supposedly accidental shooting death of his father by his mother. It was rumored that his father suspected his wife of an affair and that she shot him when she had been caught with her lover. She claimed her husband was away on business that night, and that she thought he was an intruder. A jury found her not guilty of manslaughter.
Cobb’s father never approved of Ty playing baseball, and when it became apparent that he could not influence his son to pursue a more respectable career, he told Ty not to come home a failure.
Cobb’s father was killed a week before the Tigers called up Cobb to the big leagues, and so he never got to see his son play, a fact Ty lamented: “He never got to see me play. Not one game, not an inning. But I knew he was watching me... and I never let him down. Never.”
It’s true, what Ernest Hemingway, who for a time hung out with Cobb in the 1930s, wrote of Cobb: “The greatest of all ballplayers, and an absolute sh-t.”
So when my girlfriend, after having watched the movie with me, turned to me and asked, “So why is this terrible human being in the Hall of Fame?” I could only say: “Sometimes greatness has little to do with goodness.”
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