BBRT spent just over two hours yesterday afternoon immersed in “42” – the recently released feature film depicting Jackie Robinson’s breaking of major league baseball’s “color line” in 1947.  At the conclusion of the inspiring film, the theater audience broke into applause – a tribute to both the quality of film and (even more) to the real-life courage, dignity and perseverance of its primary characters:  Jackie Robinson (played by Chadwick Boseman), Dodgers’ owner Branch Rickey (Harrison Ford) and Rachel Robinson (Nicole Beharie). BBRT highly recommends “42” – and not just for baseball fans.

This is much more than a movie about our national pastime.  It’s also documents a watershed moment in American history and even presents a true story of love under pressure.   

It’s a tale of how the often surly, but clearly idealistic, Branch Rickey – played to perfection by Ford – chose Jackie Robinson as his partner in efforts to break baseball’s unwritten, but long understood, color line.  Robinson had not only the playing skills Rickey sought (he was a Negro League star), but the strength of character.  He had been a multi-sport athlete at UCLA and an Army Officer.  In Rickey’s (correct) judgment Robinson had the intellect to understand the importance of taking his place in history and the courage and discipline to face the challenges it presented.  In Rickey’s words “the guts not to fight back.” 

The little-known Boseman fills his role ably, he not only looks and moves like an athlete, he blends on-field strength and stoicism with off-field sensitivity and rage to give us a bit of insight into how difficult being “the first” must have been.  As the movie takes us from Robinson’s original signing through his first season in the major leagues, we see the depth of prejudicial abuse Robinson must face – the segregation of accommodations,  racial taunts from fans and opposing players, shunning by even his own teammates, even death threats directed toward Robinson and his family.  And, Robinson must deal with all of this while playing ball well enough to prove he (and those who would follow him) belong in the up-to-then “white” major leagues. 

How difficult was it for Robinson not to fight back?  This was a man who had been court-martialed (found not guilty) in the Army for refusing an order to move to the back of a bus.  Robinson, as history and “42” shows us, maintained his public composure and dignity under fire – with the support of Rickey and the unflinching affection and confidence of his wife Rachel.    

There are, throughout the movie, moments with “messages.”  In one scene, a young boy is enjoying the pastoral beauty of the ball park with his father – until Robinson takes the field.  The boy’s father begins to hurl a string of racist epithets at Robinson and the child looks dismayed for a moment and then energetically parrots his father’s racist venom.  On the other side of the issue, we find a scene where Rickey tells Robinson of seeing a playground ball game in which a young white boy at the plate is mimicking Robinson’s moves and stance – “a young white boy pretending to be a black man,” now that is progress.

Not only is the story inspiring – and true – the baseball action is well-played and the cars, clothes and ball parks and (unfortunately at times) the attitudes are period-perfect.  It can be a walk down memory lane or, for those too young to remember, an eye-opening look at life in the ’40s.

It is, most certainly, a great and important story – well told.  For BBRT, “42” was an afternoon well spent.  I encourage you to see this film – and, if you can’t take peanuts and Cracker Jack, enjoy some popcorn.

Jackie Robinson – Dodgers number 42 – 1947 Rookie of the Year

151 games – .297 – 12 HRs – 125 runs – 48 RBI – 29 stolen bases 

Harmon Killebrew  Ultimate Slugger

By Steve Aschburner

Triumph Books, 2012

$25.95

Fact or fiction – a story about a strapping, 17-year-old country boy being signed by the Washington Senators after being discovered playing baseball by a U.S. Senator?  The Senators’ scout goes west to watch this teenager play a trio of games for the – Oh, let’s call them the Payette Packers – and all the kid does is go 11 for 13 with four home runs, two triples and a double.

But wait, the story gets better.  The phenom goes on to a 22-year career in which he is an 11-time All Star (the first player selected an All Star at three positions); hits 573 home runs (leading the league six times); drives in more than 1,500 runs (leading the league three times); and wins an AL MVP award.

But there’s more.  While his prestigious power earns him the nickname “Killer,” this ultimate slugger celebrates victories with milkshakes, has a humble and quiet disposition and spends time schooling teammates on how to sign a legible autograph for the deserving fans.

Had enough yet?  How about he visits a young burn victim in the hospital and tells him he’ll try to hit “a couple” of home runs for him (against the then vaunted Yankees no less) – and goes out and does it?  Oh, and for good measure, let’s say that, in addition to the Baseball Hall of Fame, he also earns a spot in the World Sports Humanitarian Hall of Fame

As movie, it would probably be considered a baseball fantasy.  As a book – Harmon Killebrew Ultimate Slugger – it is the real life story of the late Harmon Killebrew (as told by long-time journalist/sportswriter Steve Aschburner.)

I was seven-years-old when Harmon first came to the big leagues with the Senators in 1954, and was privileged to live in Minnesota and see him play for much of his career with the Twins.  I can confirm what the late Twins’ owner Calvin Griffith said about the excitement generated by this quiet star:  “If our fans knew Killebrew was coming up in the ninth inning, they never left the ball game, no matter what the score was.”  The fact is, we all knew the Killer was always a towering tape-measure drive waiting to happen.

All of this makes Ultimate Slugger a great read for anyone who had the fortunate opportunity to see Killebrew play.  Yet, in some ways, it may make the story less compelling for others.  Many of the stories about Killebrew are as modest as the man himself – no late-night carousing, no braggadocio, no feuds with pitchers or umpires.  Yet, the book is a good, and even inspiring, read.

Aschburner, in sparse journalistic style, captures the spirit, dignity and quiet strength of the Killer –  from his Idaho youth, across his HOF career, and finally through a series of family, financial and health issues.  He brings Killebrew to life not only with statistics and biographical information, but with stories and comments from those who played with him and against him.  He also gives readers a look at baseball in the 1950s and 1960s, referred to by many as the sport’s “golden years.”

But maybe more important, he gives us a look at a player who behaved in real life like the heroes we imagined in our youth.  Harmon Killebrew was the kind of man, the kind of role model, we’d all like to know (and have our kids get to know).  This book opens the door to that opportunity – and it is a BBRT recommended read for baseball fans of all ages.

It’s a good story, about a good man, who happened to be a great ballplayer.  For BBRT, there is one quote in the book that tells it all.  Asked to comment on the best day in his life (or career), Killebrew answered, “What’s the best day in my life?  I try to make every day in my life the best day.”  You couldn’t make that up.

Major League Encounters gets to the heart of the national pastime, and those privileged to play it at its highest level.

Major League Encounters

By Larry LaRue

Reader Publishing Group 2012

$11.95 print – eBook $3.99

Amazon.com

Barnesandnoble.com

Baseball Hall of Famer Bill Mazeroski earned his way into the HOF more with his glove than his bat – he was known as a second baseman who could capture a moving baseball and skillfully turn it into a double play.  In long-time sportswriter (more than three decades) Larry LaRue’s first book -  Major League Encounters – LaRue proves he can capture a moving baseball story and skillfully turn a phrase as he tells it.

In 100 real vignettes over 255 pages, LaRue gives readers a behind-the-scenes look at what drives the men – and boys – who earn the rare opportunity to play the game at its highest level.  Readers get the benefit not only of LaRue’s sportswriter’s access, but of his knowledge of the game, powers of observation, interview skills and way with words.

The stories range from heart-warming to heart-breaking and from comic, to tragic, to dramatic.   They are stories of weakness and stories of courage – of success, failure and perseverance – of veterans who enjoyed long careers and players with shorter, less-stellar stats sheets.   Most of all they are very personal stories, glimpses into the heart of the game and those who play it.  

You’ll read about:

-  The forces that drove Jim Abbot, who won 87 games and threw a no-hitter, despite being born with no right hand;

- The trials of Ken Caminiti, the 1996 NL MVP, who LaRue writes “kept his demons close and hid them well,” and who died at age 41 from “acute intoxication due to the combined effects of cocaine and opiates;”

- The passion for the game that drove utility man Rich Amaral, who LaRue tells readers “kept chasing baseball long after it stopped chasing him;”

- Hall of Famer hurler Bert Blyleven’s legendary sense of humor and skill at applying a devastating hot foot (when he was with the Angels, the team had a fire extinguisher in the dugout labeled “In case of Blyleven – Pull;”

- Cal Ripken, Jr.’s love of the game “Every day, it’s like being a little kid again;”

- Pitcher Freddie Garcia, who had a “capacity for fun that might have killed a lesser man.”

In terms of reading enjoyment, not only are the stories compelling, LaRue has a way with words that gets right to the point and pulls you into (and through) each story.  Consider these opening lines:

The Barry Bonds’ story begins “Follow Barry Bonds for a few days and the three words most used to describe him – by friends, teammates and coaches – were ‘That’s just Barry.’  Occasionally, they were meant to be complementary.”

Then there are the opening lines for power hitting first baseman and 1995 AL MVP Mo Vaughn, “Mo Vaughn read newspapers, which never made him doubt his talent.  Occasionally, it made him wish he was illiterate.”

LaRue’s insight into two-time AL batting champion Edgar Martinez begins with “The first time the Seattle Mariners offered him a contract, Edgar Martinez turned them down because he had everything he wanted – a factory job and a new Toyota.”

Or Reggie Jackson:  “There were four or five Reggie Jacksons and I got to meet all of them in the year we were together with the California Angels.”

Depicting current Seattle Mariners pitcher Tom Wilhelmsen, who made it to the majors in 2011 at age 27, LaRue begins: “At 19, Tom Wilhelmsen faced a life-changing decision – continue his career as a highly rated minor league prospect or keep smoking dope.  For Wilhelmsen the choice was clear.  He walked away from baseball, became a bartender and traveled the world, smoking as he went.”

If you’re a baseball fan, this is a great book to keep on your bed stand, carry aboard an airplane, take to the beach, enjoy at a coffee shop or even read between innings at a ball game (when you put your scorecard down.)  The only problem is you’ll start out planning to pass the time by reading just a few stories and find yourself committing to “just one more” again and again.

Are all 100 stories absolute gems?  No, but LaRue’s batting average is well north of .900 – and that makes Major League Encounters highly entertaining, a hit with BBRT and recommended reading for the avid and casual fan.

Bill Veeck:  Baseball’s Greatest Maverick

By Paul Dickson

Walker & Company, 2012

$28.00

Where to start?  Where to end? What to include?

There is so much to like about Bill Veeck:  Baseball’s Greatest Maverick – and to like about Bill Veeck himself – that it’s difficult to write a review.   The best place to start is to say that I‘ve probably never had as much fun reading a book.  Nor have I ever interrupted my reading so many times to regale my family with passages and anecdotes.  If you haven’t picked this book up yet, the time is now.  If you are a baseball fan, a humanitarian, a history buff, someone who enjoys a good story, you’ll have a hard time putting it down.

If I had to describe Bill Veeck in  a single sentence (a truly impossible task), I would say he was an individual who lived life – every minute – to the fullest, and brought those whose lives he touched along for the ride.  That spirit pervades this book.  Bill Veeck – in his lifetime, a four-time major league team owner – ignores adversity, tweaks the baseball establishment, champions social justice and brings his version of “play” and “fair play” to life and to the ball park.

While he is often remembered for celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the American League by bringing three-foot-seven-inch, 65-pound Eddie Gaedel to the plate for his St. Louis Browns or for the near-disastrous Disco Demolition night when he owned the White Sox, Bill Veeck’s legacy runs much deeper.  As you will learn on the pages of Dickson’s book, much of what you see as part of today’s game: promotional give-aways; scoreboards that celebrate home runs and victories by the home team; names on the backs of uniforms; expanded concessions; and even quality rest rooms can be traced by to the innovation and initiative of Bill Veeck.  Further, Veeck bullt teams that  captured two league championships and one World Series crown.  And along the way, he earned the love and respect of players and fans and, he would proudly point out, the animosity of fellow owners and baseball’s top administrators.

To Bill Veeck, life was meant to be both fun and fair – for everyone.  He was a man of privilege, who turned away from privilege – except when it meant he could avoid wearing a tie in places or circumstances that seemed to demand that formality.  In 1943, considering military service in World War II, Veeck (given his economic status and celebrity) was offered the opportunity of  an officer’s commission in the Army or Navy (and most likely a safe promotional assignment). Veeck’s sense of fair play instead led him to enlist as a private in the Marine Corps – a decision which would eventually cost him much of his right leg.

It was that same sense of fair play that made him a champion of civil rights and a force in the integration of baseball.  Dickson, in fact, devotes a chapter to Veeck’s plan to purchase the Philadelphia Phillies before the 1943 season, hold a mock all-white spring training and then show up on opening day with an all-Black or primarily Black team. (Veeck was convinced baseball could not turn away Black players while Black soldiers were fighting for the country in World War II.) Before Veeck could complete his purchase, however, word of the plan got out and the Phillies were taken over by the National League and an alternative buyer was sought. (In 1947, Veeck, then owner of the Cleveland Indians, signed Lary Doby as the American League’s first Black player.)

Ultimately, Bill Veeck was an innovator and promoter – a true impresario; a baseball man who knew how to build a winning team; a humanitarian; a social activist; and perhaps the most passionate fan and friend of baseball ever.

Now, I could relate story after story from the pages of Dickson’s book, but it would be more fun if you read it yourself.  So, here are just a few previews of what you’ll find on the book’s pages:

- Bill Veeck hiring a young concessionaire named Jack Ruby (yes, the same Jack Ruby who later gunned down Lee Harvey Oswald in Dallas).

- Veeck talking baseball and art with Salvidor Dali.

- Veeck tricking Harry Carey into leading the fans in “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” and justifying it by telling Carey he was perfect for the role because his voice was so bad, the fans would be more than willing to sing along.  ”Hell, if you had a good voice, you’d intimidate them and nobody would join in.”

- Veeck’s testifying in support of Curt Flood (and against Major League Baseball) in Flood’s historic 1970 challenge to baseball’s reserve clause.

- The multiple times Veeck had vendors serve “drinks on the house” to fans in the stands.

- Veeck’s loyalty to Satchel Paige, a loyalty that translated into making Paige MLB’s oldest-ever rookie – and, later, multiple major league opportunities for the Negro League legend.

- Vick’s penchant for joining the fans for a beer in the bleachers, shirtless and in shorts with his wooden leg on display – consistent with his commitment to the everyday fan and his comment that:  “I have discovered in twenty years of moving around a ball park, that the knowledge of the game is usually in inverse proportion to the price of the seats.”

- Veeck’s voracious appetite for reading – 3-5 books each week.

- Veeck overcoming adversity on the field, in the boardrooms of baseball and in the operating room.  (Veeck once described himself as “whole” – defining whole as having “a lung and an eighth, a leg and a quarter, 40 percent of my hearing and one legal eye.”

After Veeck’s death, Dickson reports, Chicago Magazine writer William Brashler had this to say “Somehow, we will have to muddle through Opening Day without him.  And we will have to adjust to a few sad facts:  the gross national consumption of beer has diminished, some say measurably.  Every day now, one good book goes unread.  And marches against handguns and for peace and civil rights have one fewer peg-leg pounding the pavement.”

Bill Veeck was more than a baseball man.  He was, as the last line on his Baseball Hall of Fame Plaque reads “A CHAMPION OF THE LITTLE GUY.”  I’d take it a step further, Bill Veeck was a champion of life.  As a result, this is more than a baseball book.  It’s a book about life – and about living it to the fullest.

I began this review wondering how to start and how to end.  Well, I finally came up with an ending.   All of us have at some time played that parlor game in which you answer the question, “If you could invite five people – past or present – to dinner, whom would you choose?”  I can’t imagine anyone who reads this book leaving Bill Veeck off their guest list.  Take the time to read a truly interesting and entertaining book about a truly interesting, entertaining and impactful fellow.

Calico Joe by John Grisham

Doubleday – 2012 ($24.95)

While John Grisham is best known for his detailed legal thrillers, he has set that aside to pen a baseball-focused tale of relationships and redemption that gives readers a look into the heart and soul of an “old school” hardballer, his family and the ultimate victim of his approach to life and the national pastime.

The story initially centers on Joe Castle – a hard hitting 21-year-old phenom from Calico Rock, Arkansas, who joins the Cubs during the 1973 season.  Castle homers in his first three major league at bats and continues on a tear that sees him with 21 home runs and an average near the .500 mark after 38 games.  Unfortunately for Calico Joe Castle, his last home run comes in his first at bat against Warren Tracey, a 34-year-old journeyman pitcher trying to hang on with the Mets – not a very good hurler and even less of a father, husband, friend or team mate.  Known for an “old school” attitude, a fierce temper and a penchant for hitting batters, Tracey takes his revenge in Castle’s next (and last) at bat with an intentional and nearly fatal bean ball that puts an end to both their careers.

In the stands for the game is Warren Tracey’s 11-year-old son Paul, who idolizes Castle as much as he dislikes his own often absent and always overbearing father.  Paul, who has been berated by his father for not knocking down hitters when he’s on the Little League mound, knows and dreads what’s coming when Calico steps in for his second at bat– and is among the most passionate non-believers when Warren later denies he hit Castle intentionally.

Years later, Paul still feels personal and family guilt.  With Warren– by now on wife number 6 and just as dour as ever – dying of cancer, Paul becomes determined to arrange a redemptive meeting between Warren and Joe.   Paul, however, finds plenty of opposition to the proposed meeting – from his father and Joe Castle’s very protective family and community.  Paul’s quest and the relationships he discovers and builds along the way are what Calico Joe is really all about.  It takes us all the way from a major league baseball diamond to two former big leaguers, both damaged in different ways, facing each other in folding chairs in small town ball park.

Now, if statistics are your priority, Calico Joe may not be for you (at times, some of the numbers just don’t seem to add up).  However, if you are a baseball fan looking for an enjoyable summer read, this book will capture you.  I recommend it for the story, for its ties to baseball and for the fact that Grisham has made it even more interesting by deftly intermingling real players and events with his fictional cast of characters.  Again, a fun summer read, ideal for the beach or campground.

Driving Mr. Yogi:  Yogi Berra, Ron Guidry and Baseballs’ Greatest Gift

By Harvey Araton

Published (2012) by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt  ($26.00)

Take a first look at the cover of Driving Mr. Yogi and you’ll see two major league ballplayers, two Yankee all-stars and two sports celebrities.  Take another look after you’ve begun your passage through the book and you’ll see much more.  You’ll see two friends from different backgrounds and even different generations, brought together by a shared passion for baseball in general and Yankee baseball in particular –  but even more closely bonded  by mutual respect and genuine caring.

The book – a light (240-page), fun and feel-good summer read – ultimately is as much about friendship and loyalty as it is about baseball.

The tale begins in Yankee spring training 1999, when Yogi Berra returns to the Yankee-fold after a 14-year feud with team owner George Steinbrenner over the circumstances of Berra’s firing as Yankee manager.   Guidry is asked to pick up Berra at the airport and, despite the age difference – at 74 Berra was 15 years Guidry’s senior – the two hit it off.  The Berra/ Guidry camaraderie (including the annual airport pickup) becomes a true “right of spring.”

From 1999 forward, Guidry, a star in his own right, (14-year career with 170 wins and 91 losses, including 25-3 in 1978) picks up Berra at the airport in his Ford pick-up, on-time and ready to carry Berra’s luggage. During spring training, Guidry pretty much serves as Berra’s chauffer and not just from the hotel to the ballpark and back – to dinners (at Berra’s favorites), shopping malls, and the golf course.  The book, however, is not about the excursions themselves, but about what Berra and Guidry learn about and from each other as their friendship grows.  And, as Berra ages, Guidry’s role expands from chauffeur to protector (and always best friend.)

Driving Mr. Yogi is not always an easy task.  Berra is a stickler for punctuality – on time means early and he is quick to voice his displeasure at being late.  Yogi is also a creature of habit and routine, as Guidry puts it, no matter what the activity “Everything’s got to be just the way it was last time and the time before that.”

Guidry, however, knows just how to deal with Yogi – mixing the correct amounts of reverence and irreverence, in a way only true friends can.  He knows when to cajole, when to tease, when and how fast to give in, how to get a smile from Berra (who when it came to grins was known for not wasting any) and, most important, when and how to say no to Berra when he wants to push himself a little too far.   He also understands that Berra is a man who cares deeply about the others, who wants to earn his way and is committed to doing the right things the right way – all the time.

Oh, there’s plenty of baseball in this book as well.   The drama of Yogi Berra Day (July 18, 1999) at Yankee Stadium, when all of fandom became aware that Yogi’s feud with Yankee owner George Steinbrenner was officially over.   Araton takes us there as Yankee old-timer Don Larsen (who, in 1956, pitched the only perfect game in World Series history) throws out the first pitch to his battery mate for the masterpiece, Berra.  Then,  Araton takes us along for the tension-filled ride as Yankee pitcher David Cone tosses a perfect game of his own on this oh-so-perfect day for the Yankee faithful.

Araton alsp gives insight into other giants of Yankee lore, like Joe DiMaggio who wanted to be the last Yankee introduced at Yankee celebrations and “demanded reverence from everyone within a 200-mile radius.”

Sprinkled through the book, you’ll also find gifts for fans of Yogi’s renowned malapropisms (Yogi once described his reason for avoiding a certain St. Louis restaurant with the observation, ”Nobody ever goes there any more, it’s too crowded.”) Araton shares gems like Yogi’s comment during ceremonies at a Yankees’ Old-Timers game when the names of former Yankees who were deceased scrolled across the scoreboard – “I hope I never see my name up there.”

But mostly, this is a book about friendship, integrity, compassion, loyalty, humility and humanity.  At one point in the book, Berra – who could be stubborn and set in his ways – is described as an individual who could “charm the melancholy out of anyone.”  This book and its very real leading characters can do the same.

BBRT sees Driving Mr. Yogi as a good read about a couple of really good people.  The baseball tie is just the icing on the cake.

Fifty-nine in ’84, by Edward Achorn,  Smithsonian Books (2010)

“Fifty-nine in 84” is story of grit, passion and accomplishment which – if it wasn’t  really true – would be truly unbelievable.  It’s the story of one of the greatest professional baseball players of the 19^th century and a story of the (often sordid) conditions of the times.   It’s a story for baseball fans – for historians – and for those who just appreciate a well-written tale of adversity and achievement.

The centerpiece of Fifty-nine in 84 is the 1884 season of the National League pennant-winning Providence Grays  and star pitcher Charles Old Hoss Radbourn – who that season won a  record 59 games (against 12 losses), tossed 678 2/3 innings, struck out 441 and compiled a 1.38 era.  Need more proof of author Edward Achorn’s assertion that this was the “greatest season a pitcher ever had”?   Radbourn started 73 games and completed 73 games – and, as his plaque in the Baseball Hall of Fame notes, Old Hoss pitched the last 27 games of the season, winning 26.   For his 11-year big league career, Radbourn won 309 games, against 195 losses (with a 2.67 era), amassed more than 4,500 innings pitched, completed 489 of 503 starts, and struck out 1,830 batters.

But this book is not about statistical achievements, it’s about American life in the late 1800s – on and off the field.  It’s about a time when both baseball and life were hard fought, dirty and often dangerous undertakings.  It’s about the pain and pleasure of winning at a game that took a tremendous physical toll on its participants.  It’s also about passion, Radbourn’s passion for the game, for victory (at any cost), for recognition, and for Carrie Stanhorpe (who ran a very suspect “boarding house”).   And, it’s about pride, envy, anger, stubbornness, commitment and all the other emotions that go into an “epic” tale.   Ultimately, it provides a vivid picture of American society and culture – and the national pastime  -  in the 19^th century.

Again, all of this centers primarily on the 1884 National League season of the Providence Grays, a season in which the Grays’ rotation was initially made up of the proven veteran Radbourn and a hot-shot, up-and-coming young hurler (Charlie Sweeney) who brought out the worst in Radbourn when they were team mates and the best in Radbourn later in the season (after Sweeney was expelled from the team due to a combination of insubordination, alcohol and womanizing).   In a less than altruistic move, Radbourn offers to essentially become a one-man rotation.  In return, Radbourn wants his and Sweeney’s salary and his unconditional release from his contract if he pitches the then second-place Grays to the pennant.   Motivated by arrogance, ambition and his desire to impress Carrie Stanhorpe, he does just that.

In a late-season run, Radbourn started  40 of the final 43 games (winning 36) – often pitching with such pain (primarily with alcohol as a pain reliever) that he needed help just putting on his shirt in the morning.   He followed that up by pitching Providence to victory in what many consider the first World Series – defeating the American Association’s New York Metropolitans three games to none, with (true to form) Radbourn pitching all three games, winning 6-0, 3-1, and 12-2 on consecutive days.  Ultimately, Radbourn retired at age 36, had an equally tumultuous life outside of baseball (dying in his forties of syphilis) and was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1938.

BBRT recommends Fifty-nine in 84 as a compelling true story about baseball, 19^th century society and culture, love and life.

The Great American Novel by Philip Roth

WARNING!  If you are looking for political correctness – avoid this book.

WARNING #2!  If you have an adverse reaction to laughing out loud – avoid this book.

Perhaps most famous for his novels  American Pastoral (which earned a Pulitzer), Goodbye Columbus and Portnoy’s Complaint (thanks in part to their translation to the big screen), Philip Roth has made a unique contribution to hardball literature – The Great American Novel.   BBRT considers this a must-read – well at least the first two-thirds of the book.  Readers should be forewarned, however, that – like the movie “The Loved One,” the Great American Novel can promise something to offend everyone.  Yet, it is this across-the-board irreverence that makes the offense tolerable and even comic.

The book, set in the 1940s, recounts the very-comic  sufferings of the Port Ruppert Mundys – a baseball team of limited skill and unlimited neurosis that (due to losing its stadium to the war effort) must play an entire season on the road.

Written from the perspective of retired sport journalist “Word Smith,”  The Great American Novel takes you into the hearts and (often dark) souls of a team made up of  ex-cons, alcoholics,  amputees, veteran players well  beyond their primes, 90-pound adolescents not ready for the big-time, and even extremely vindictive lilliputians – and into ballparks in places like Asylum, Ohio, Terra Incognita, Wyoming, and Kakoola, Wisconsin.  It also takes you from the dugout to an asylum (for an exhibition game) to the House UnAmerican Activities Committee.   The prologue includes Word Smith’s encounter with Earnest Hemingway and the book wraps up with a letter written by Smith to China’s Chairman Mao.

In short, the book covers a lot of ground and smashes a lot of myths along the way.  But, it’s first and foremost the story of a team of misfits and maniacs (when you read the book you’ll understand the alliteration) – and secondly a story of the Patriot League and a conspiracy (with roots deep in the Communist threat of the Cold War) to eliminate any reference to this third major league from the annals of baseball history.  It is, in fact, in the final one-third of the book, when Roth turns from sport to conspiracy that The Great American Novel bogs down a bit, but – even if you only read the first 200 or so pages – The Great American Novel provides a real “experience” for the baseball fan.

Give it a read and let BBRT know what you think.