COLUMN: Grandpa the sportswriter

     A cool thing I never wrote about before is that I had a grandfather who was a sports columnist in Minneapolis in the 1930s and 1940s.

     Emil J. Krieg, my mother’s father, wrote colorful columns and articles for the Minneapolis Times, which no longer exists, and then for the Minneapolis Tribune, which is now the StarTribune.

     I never wrote about him because I had never seen his work. Now, thanks to my older brother Gregg, I have.

     Gregg recently bought a six-month subscription to the StarTribune archives, giving him access to long-ago papers, articles, photos and columns. Naturally, he went searching for Grandpa Krieg’s writing. He found several samples, and sent them along.

     The ones I’ve seen so far are from 1940 and 1941. Emil wrote about bowling, including one piece with the headline “158 Kegler Just Misses Hitting 300 Dream Game,” about a guy who had a 158 average and rolled a 289, getting to the 10^th frame with strikes before missing.

     He wrote about hunting, including one column about “buck fever,” where a hunter freezes up when he or she finally encounters a deer. A portion:

     “The fever reacts in different ways with different hunters. Some freeze to their guns and are unable to pull the trigger, some start shouting and firing wildly skyward, and still others shake and shiver as with the ague and are unable to hold a sight on a target.”

     I had to look up “ague,” which apparently means recurring chills and sweating, as with malaria.

     But my favorite column so far was from February 1940, involving an upcoming heavyweight boxing match between Tony Galento and Max Baer, both hopefuls for the title held at the time by Joe Louis.

     Emil wrote:

     “There’s no doubt about how the two contestants will stack up in the fickle fancies of the fans when they square off for round one. Galento, who was regarded as a freak and an oaf until he took care of Lou Nova and tossed a scare into Louis’ midriff, is going to be the hero in this bout. Every time he winds up that roundhouse right and lets fly the crowds is going to grunt with him – and cheer when it lands. And every time Maxie’s hooks and uppercuts miss that bobbing and weaving bullet head there is going to be derisive laughter.”

     And later …

     “The customers will pay, not to see a good fight between two good fighters, but to see a handsome clown have his ears pinned back by a picturesque buffoon.”

     I Googled the fight, which took place in July of that year. Turns out Grandpa was wrong; Baer won by technical knockout in the eighth round, but never got his title shot at Louis.

     As colorful as Grandpa Krieg was in his writing, he went on to be much more than than a sports columnist. My brother also sent an obituary, which described how Emil was editor of Minnesota Labor, a union publication; was publicity director for former vice president Hubert Humphrey’s first senatorial campaign, in 1948; was a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in 1956, and more.

     I do remember him. He passed away when I was 10 years old, but I have memories of going to his house in Minneapolis, and of him being funny and fun to be around. A weird memory that somehow sticks with me is that there was always a package of store-bought chocolate-coated marshmallow cookies on his kitchen counter.

     I never met my grandmother Verna, Emil’s wife, who died of cancer in 1948 at the age of 45. Emil lived to be 71.

     My brother will be sending me more of Grandpa Krieg’s writing. I can’t wait.