NEWS
An appreciation of an original
Posted: Saturday, March 25, 2000
Jack Mann was a high-principled writer from the old school
When Spectacular Bid arrived at Churchill Downs for the 1979 Kentucky Derby (G1), Jack Mann slipped inside the van at the stable gate and stood next to the colt during the short ride to the barn. When trainer Bud Delp opened the van door, there was a grinning Mann surprising his old friend.
"I just laughed," Delp recalled. "I said, 'What are you going to do next?' He did a lot of silly little things. We had a lot of fun together."
Jack Mann died on March 11 at age 74 after a long bout with lung cancer. He wasn't always pleasant to be around. Even his own kids called Mann a "curmudgeon," a term often repeated by friends when recalling the Maryland Turf writer.
But Mann lived by high principles that are rapidly fading from the journalism world. His creed was work harder than anyone else, don't back down from your beliefs, and never lower your standards.
It didn't always make Mann popular. He would settle arguments by saying both parties were wrong. Mann often posted articles he considered poorly written on the press box bulletin board, underlining the offending lines of poor English. Mann would snarl at younger reporters who tried to join his interviews. And trying to debate Mann was like entering the ring against Mike Tyson. When challenged by a guard, Mann threatened, "It's chin music time," if not allowed to pass. And that was at the mellow age of 71.
But Mann was actually a lovable character. With the same tenderness recalled by friends of Mann crying as a young Marine during a World War II battle when hearing of President Franklin Roosevelt's death, Mann befriended young journalists and horsemen that he considered hard workers.
"He was a sweetheart of a guy," Delp said. "He was a very good writer. Sometimes he told it like it was and got in trouble."
Said Pohla Smith, president of the National Turf Writers Association: "He put on this crusty exterior and would gripe, but it wasn't real. It was a cover-up for this soft, warm man underneath. He had a terrific compassion. His loyalties to his friends were primary."
Mann was a feared metro news reporter in New York and Detroit in the 1950s before covering his first horse race in 1962 for the New York Herald-Tribune at age 38. It became a new love and a lifelong passion. While Mann was considered an outstanding baseball writer, penning the critically acclaimed The Decline and Fall of the New York Yankees in 1967, he spent the last 30 years largely covering horse racing.
Mann won the 1987 Eclipse Award for magazine writing and the Old Hilltop Award by Pimlico officials for career excellence. He was a wordsmith, using big words that few people understood. To simplify was to betray his craft. Better to educate the masses than pander to them.
"He was an excellent writer," longtime Maryland Turf writer Joe Kelly said. "He took a lot of pains in his writing and it reflected."
Putting in the time as a beat writer was paramount to Mann. In 1975 when Ruffian died in the middle of the night, only Mann and two other reporters remained at the Belmont barn despite the final deadline's passage hours earlier. When Sunday Silence's hoof was x-rayed before the 1989 Preakness Stakes (G1), Mann had a close view from the barn rail after arriving at 6 a.m. A photographer's request to move aside brought a sharp rebuke by Mann. And this was his own photographer.
"He was a tough guy," said Kelly. "Present day newspaper guys don't take that kind of attitude."
Mann spent the last seven years as a free-lance writer, banging out stories on a manual typewriter. He never much liked the feel of a computer keyboard. Too impersonal. Better to hammer out a story in the same unrelenting style that he lived.
Mann, though he did not have much money in his "retirement" years, refused the National Turf Writers Association's offer of a free trip to the 1998 Kentucky Derby (G1). If he could not earn his own way after covering nearly 30 Derbys, Mann wouldn't take charity. Besides, he hated wearing those "Visa" press credential holders. Mann considered it corporate sponsorship and covered Visa with tape.
After all, nobody owned Jack Mann.
Rick Snider covers Maryland racing for Thoroughbred Times and considered Jack Mann a friend for more than 15 years.
