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The Long Ball

By Dr. John D. Eigenauer
May 26, 2006

In fairness to Tom Adelman's book, The Long Ball: The Summer of '75-Spaceman, Catfish, Charlie Hustle, and the Greatest World Series Ever Played, I should begin by saying that I read a number of reader reviews before writing this one; they nearly all praised Adelman's book lavishly. Some readers offered tentative reservations, but they were few. Next, I should include some quotes about Adelman's writing style: "His eye for ingenious description is mesmerizing," "His characters and prose pulse with electric vitality," and "I know of no one who writes with more passion and more soul."

That being said, I will go directly to the point: this is an absolutely terrible book. It is composed of five parts-the first four describe the 1975 season and the fifth describes the 1975 post-season. The book reads as if the first parts were written after the author realized that there was not enough material to write a book about the 1975 playoffs and World Series. These early chapters, for example, begin with standings, yet often make no mention of those standings, making them look like filler. One chapter contains only three and a half pages of prose, starts with disconnected anecdotes about Billy Martin, describes a single game in which John Mayberry hit three home runs (connected to the story only by the fact that Martin was the opposing manager), shifts for no reason to a paragraph about Dick Williams and Robin Yount, and ends with an anecdote about George Brett sliding hard into Robin Yount that has nothing to do with the chapter, the 1975 season, or anything else in the book, except that it happened in 1975.

Fisk Fisk's magical homer was only enough to force a game 7.

This highly disconnected nature of the book's stories is the main reason why it does not read well. Any given chapter might contain anecdotes about Casey Stengel, Mickey Mantle, Pete Rose, Charlie Lau, or Vicki Bench, and it is difficult to tell why they are presented together. I suspect that it can be traced to Adelman's fascination with coincidence because he treats any intersection of lives or events as wondrous, no matter how quotidian.

Another reason why this is such a bad book is because of the staggeringly insipid prose. This passage is typical: "And this is what happens when Nolan pitches Tuesday night: Rennie Stennett flies out. Richie Hebner boards with a line drive. Al Oliver pops out. Willie Stargell strikes out. Dave Parker flies out. Richie Zisk strikes out. Manny Sanguillen and Frankie Taveras fly out. John Candelaria strikes out. Stennett, Hebner, Oliver, and Stargell fly out. Parker fouls out. In the fifth, Zisk and Sanguillen board on successive line drives. Pinch hitter Ed Kirkpatrick fouls out. Candelaria strikes out, and the inning ends." In one unendurably anemic passage, Adelman mentions five times in half a page that Dick Drago threw to first to hold a runner on. If this is writing with "passion and soul," the OED rivals Neruda.

The book is frustrating as well because it is impossible to separate fact from fiction. (One reviewer referred to it as a novel). Adelman has Carl Yastrzemski wondering what the price of potatoes is before hitting a home run; he traces Barry Bonds' habit of choking up to a time when he was small and unable to hold big bats; he has Pete Rose wishing that he could play the infield so that the fans would stop throwing cherry bombs at him; he claims that Luis Tiant's father had such a baffling delivery that batters used to swing when he threw to first base; and he has Fred Norman's skin looking "sickly and green" during a game, which, we learn, is common for players during night games at Shea Stadium. (Note: Coincidentally, I saw a game last night at Shea Stadium and none of the players appeared either green or sickly, despite playing sixteen innings. Perhaps the lighting is better now). Indeed, the book's first half should probably be categorized as historical fiction.

Worst of all is what Adelman misses. He tells the story of Catfish Hunter's free agency in a few pages without any analysis. Consequently, Marvin Miller, the players' union, and Andy Messersmith are passing actors in a chronological tale whose import lies with their occasional appearance in the 1975 headlines. He mentions Ted Turner's acquisition of the Braves (the deal was finalized in 1976) by telling a story about Turner's disgust with the Braves' cheap marketing ploys; given that Turner's broadcasting network revolutionized the game, the complete story would have been fascinating. Adelman ignores numerous opportunities like these.

Unfortunately, this is not the story of the 1975 season as Adelman claims. It is a series of stories that the author gleaned from biographies of famous players such as Carl Yastrzemski, Sparky Anderson, Catfish Hunter, Sparky Lyle, and Reggie Jackson. The first half reads like inflated 1920s sports journalism and the last half reads like an endless game summary. The book's few interesting facts don't merit the time it would take to discover them. The good news is that the fascinating story of the 1975 season remains to be written and Adelman has shown us how not to write it.

John Eigenauer can be contacted at jeigenauer@yahoo.com. A complete list of his reviews and more about him can be found here.