Is it a case of sour grapes? Are some publishers and writers, having been spurned by the “greatest living player” piling on the unpleasant comments? Read Leon Neyfahk’s piece — “New Willie Mays Biography Comes With Strings Attached” — in the New York Observer and judge for yourself.
“In exchange for his cooperation, Mr. Mays will receive an undisclosed portion of the proceeds from the book, which, after a heated bidding war, sold for $1.35 million, according to a source close to the negotiations.”
Neyfakh later notes that Mays is apparently bitter at seeing players with much less talent raking in the dough:
That bitterness has apparently been an obstaclefor those looking to write about him.
“For years, I’ve tried to land Willie Mays’ autobiography,” said David Hirshey, a vice president and executive editor at HarperCollins, and a devout sports fan, “and every time I was told they were looking for several million dollars, so I chose not to swing at that pitch. But to hear from people that they’ve sold it for only a million and that Mays’ portion is going to charity shows that even a legend like Willie Mays can finally come down to earth.”
Frankly, I see nothing wrong with a player of this caliber, truly one of the all-time greats, to try to make a few bucks in the twilight of their years, especially since they were so comparatively underpaid. If A-Rod gets $25 million per, imagine what a Mays or Mantle would have pulled down had they not had the misfortune of being born too soon.
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