I’ve long believed that the death of a famous athlete leads to renewed interest in any books about him, a theory that holds when you look at the weekly Baseball Best-Sellers. Sure enough, the recent passing of Pete Rose provided an uptick in sales of books about the controversial superstar and since Keith O’Brien wrote […]…

Just about 30 years ago, I bought Baseball’s Golden Age: The Photographs of Charles M. Conlon. Even if you’re not a connoisseur of the early 20th century game, I’m willing to be you’ve sen photos taken by Conlon. Many of the close-ups are haunting. To me, the players always seemed much older than the 20- […]…

I don’t have a whole lot of hobbies, so when I see a book that combines any of them on my periodic “Coming down the pike” stories, I get extra pumped. Baseball: The Movie covers two of them. Now that I no longer have Turner Classic Movies, since they went to a subscription platform, I […]על ידי Ron Kaplan

As I keep mentioning, regular readers of The Bookshelf know of my disdain for superlatives and similar declarations, such as “Greatest,” “Worst,” “Complete,” in titles. But there are a few cases in which they seem totally appropriate. In the case of Andy McCoullough’s new (and first) book, Clayton Kershaw just might be The Last of […]…

I always felt a bit jealous of beat writers like Andy Martino. They get to go to every game, sit in (mostly) the best seats, have great access, etc. Of course, that’s an idealistic view. Travel can be brutal, players can be jerks (as can writers and their editors), competition can be fierce. Look at […]…

Take two. Don’t know what happened, but the original post from earlier this week disappeared like a Doc Gooden curveball. Not even a draft of it, so I’m trying to recreate it as faithfully as possible. It seems to many outside the area that New Yorkers have an inflated image of themselves (at least those […]…