A Book You Didn't Know You Need
No.76: October 1, 2021
Dear Friends,
I hope you are enjoying the Fall. We’re having a blessed bit of weather here in Big Sky Country, and hopefully it carries on a few more weeks. Montana is wonderful, but the shortness of Autumn is a liability. Last year we got a freak three feet of snow dumped on us in early October and that was that. But for now, it’s an Indian Summer (are we still allowed to say that? I lose track of the rules).
I also hope you are enjoying the mayhem in Washington, D.C. I mean, it really isn’t worth anything other than entertainment value. Freaking out over debt limit increases is complete absurdity. Is there a sentient person on the planet that thinks the United States Government is going to default on its debts? It’s all political gamesmanship, seeing who can make the other party look bad.
The drama over the infrastructure and reconciliation bills is entertaining, too. I mean, where else can you get comedic gems like politicians insisting that by spending $3.5 Trillion, it “actually” costs nothing! Or the notion that “two senators” (Manchin and Sinema) are holding up the people’s business? When even a math-deficient person like me knows that number to be be FIFTY-TWO. And, well, leave it David Bahnsen to turn it all into a perfect stand-up routine:
Make a batch of popcorn and enjoy the show. It’s about all we can do until next election time when there’s a lot of people who need to be sent packing.
A Book You Didn’t Know You Need
I would like to talk about a book you need, but probably don’t think you need. But I want you to trust me: you need it.
Joe Posnanski is a sportswriter. He got his start decades ago as a beat reporter for the Kansas City Star, and over the years has written for a number of different outlets: Sports Illustrated, NBC Sports, ESPN, and most recently The Athletic. He’s the author of several wonderful books, particularly The Soul of Baseball: A Road Trip Through Buck O’Neill’s America. He is easily the greatest sportswriter of his generation, if not in the history of sports writing. And that is not because he can dizzy you with facts and figures and numbers and advanced statistics (although he can do that, too). It is because he is an incredible storyteller and keen observer of human beings.
He is a sportswriter, yes; but more than that, he’s a writer.
This week Joe’s ship finally came in. His latest book, The Baseball 100 hit the shelves on Monday to overwhelming acclaim. He hit #3 on Amazon and was the talk of not only the sports world but also cable news shows. The book is simple: it represents Joe Posnanski’s list of the 100 greatest baseball players in history. And he expects you to argue with it. But it’s not just a list, not by a long shot. It is one hundred separate, brilliant, entertaining, and often deeply moving essays on each of his selections. It has the historic greats, contemporary players you know, players you’ve never heard of, and most enjoyably he includes those from the Negro Leagues before Major League Baseball was integrated. And—and, get this—he wrote and published it online in The Athletic last offseason in one hundred days. One brilliant essay every single day for a hundred days. Now, I’m sure he polished them up for the book publication, but his output is still just jaw-dropping.
I’ve probably already lost you. You probably don’t even like baseball, or sports in general. Maybe you’ve never even watched the sport, or, like a sad, sad, misinformed person think baseball is “boring.” Stick with me: you still need this book. Sure, it is about baseball and the men who play the game, but it is so much more.
It’s about suffering and glory, trials and perseverance, fathers and sons, history, society, human nature, sportsmanship, gratitude, fame, celebrity, outcasts, heartache, heartbreak, achievement, legacy, being remembered and being forgotten and so much more. It’s about America through the lens of America’s game, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Okay, so even if you know nothing about baseball, I’ve convinced you that you need the book. Right? But, you might say, the book is EIGHT-HUNDRED PAGES. Brian, I can’t read an 800 page book! It’ll just sit there on the shelf, mocking me! Okay, I get it. It’s daunting. But you still need the book.
The essays are arranged starting with Player number 100 (Ichiro Suzuki) and counting down to number one—I won’t give any spoilers except to say that his name doesn’t resemble that of a certain candy bar. Each essay is no more than ten pages. Ten absolutely engrossing and fascinating pages. You can read one a day for a hundred days. But you won’t be able to do that, really. You won’t be able to resist the next chapter. This will be the easiest 800 pages you’ve ever read. In fact, I venture to say that the way this book is arranged, it will scarcely be possible to not finish the book.
Okay, so you’re still with me. But Brian, I don’t understand all those facts and figures and statistics. Will I still enjoy the book? Yes, you will. Joe includes a helpful Glossary at the beginning of the book explaining some recurring statistics and what they mean, and he reminds you from time to time throughout the book when you need a refresher. It will only take you a few chapters to start to recognize what great stats are and what underwhelming stats are.* Don’t be intimidated, but even if you do glaze over at slash lines (.347/432/541) or WAR or OBP or SLG it won’t make a difference: the stories will captivate you.
* Sidebar: One of the reasons baseball is so special is the enduring value and validity of its statistics. The game is 150 years old and has changed over time in so many ways. There are different “eras” of baseball. But guess what? A .300 batting average was considered great a hundred years ago. And a .300 batting average is considered great today. I don’t think there is any other sport that has that kind of lack of inflation. When I was growing up, if an NFL running back rushed for 1,000 yards in a season, he was otherworldly. Today, if a running back doesn’t rush for 1,000 yards, he’s probably not playing again next season. The “stability” of baseball statistics makes it possible to compare players from different eras (although there are challenges in doing that, which Joe explains).
When I opened the book to its first chapter and saw the picture of Ichiro Suzuki, I thought, “Well, okay.” Ichiro played in my lifetime and I remember him well. How much was I going to learn about a guy who retired, what, a decade ago? By the time I read the final sentence of the chapter Joe Posnanski had tears welling up in my eyes. I kept reading. And, man, it was unusually dusty in my house. Some of these stories are just moving. And inspiring.
Okay, finally, a word to those of you who do love baseball, and are inclined to buy this book. You might think you know a lot, but you will be surprised at how much you don’t know. Some of these players I appreciated, sure; but sometimes my eyes pop out of my head when Joe explains just how great these players were. It’s a feast for any baseball fan, and in my opinion The Baseball 100 is destined to be classic in the genre for generations.
If Commissioner Rob Manfred doesn’t destroy the game, that is.
Miscellany
Don’t forget to order the book. Click the image.
For various reasons, lately I’ve been thinking about craftsmanship again. Joe Posnanski is a craftsman with words and stories. But I’ve been delving into the world of guitar artisans. There is a whole subculture of luthiers—artisans who handcraft, often by themselves in their own little shops, some of the finest musical instruments ever devised. I’m a huge fan.
Those are the work of Rebecca Urlacher. And then so many others, like Leo Buendia or Rory Dowland at Taran Guitars. Outstanding work!
Do they sound good? Well, I’ll finish off with a video of Dustin Furlow playing an Urlacher—he geeks around for a few minutes explaining all the woods and features, but he gets around to playing it for you. Enjoy!
Thou almost persuadest me to become a baseball fan 😄
Seriously, I really did enjoy the Ken Burns series. That guy could make drying paint fascinating.