Five Seasons covers the baseball seasons from 1972 through 1976, described as the “most significant half decade in the history of the game.” The era was notable for the remarkable individual feats of Hank Aaron, Lou Brock, and Nolan Ryan, among others. It also presented one of the best World Series of all time (1975), including still the greatest World Series game ever played (Game Six). Along with visiting other games and campaigns, Roger Angell meets a trio of Tigers-obsessed fans, goes to a game with a departing old-style owner, watches high-school ball in Kentucky with a famous scout, and explores the sad and astounding mystery of Steve Blass’s vanished control. Angell’s Five Seasons is a gem and a gift for baseball lovers of all ages.
Roger Angell (b. 1920) is a celebrated New Yorker writer and editor. First published in the magazine in 1944, he became a fiction editor and regular contributor in 1956; and remains as a senior editor and staff writer. In addition to seven classic books on baseball, which include The Summer Game (1972), Five Seasons (1977), and Season Ticket (1988), he has written works of fiction, humor, and a memoir, Let Me Finish (2006).
Published in 1977, covering the titular five seasons from 1972 to 1976, this book is a throwback to a prior era in baseball with top-notch writing. Angell wrote this series of essays for the New Yorker, so each is a standalone article with a particular topic and, taken as a whole, provides a striking picture of what the game was like at the time. The publication date of the article is shown at the top and the articles are not arranged in sequential order.
It highlights notable achievements in the sport at the time, such as: • Hank Aaron breaking Babe Ruth’s home run record • Nolan Ryan completing his third and fourth no-hitters (which baseball fans know expanded to seven by the end of his career) • Lou Brock setting records for base stealing
Angell relates what he considered at the time to be an adulteration of the sport: • Initiation of the designated hitter in the American League, in part to shore up attendance • Obvious impact of corporate thinking in baseball • Beginning of free agency and player salaries rising to unprecedented levels (a harbinger of even higher salaries to come) • Increase in night games and related changes due to television coverage • Artificial turf, and its increase in wear and tear on the athletes
He also shares several human-interest stories, such as: • Steve Blass suddenly and mysteriously losing his effectiveness as a pitcher • The antics of Charles O. Finley and his colorful Oakland A’s • Conversations with old-style Giant’s owner Horace Stoneham • A group of three Tigers’ fans keeping stats and reacting to the ups and downs of the season • Inside look at traveling with a veteran baseball scout, Ray Scarborough, as he evaluates prospects for the Angels
Angell takes a look at just about every aspect of the game, including labor issues, owners, coaches, managers, the Commissioner’s Office, star players, fringe players, scouting, the draft, minor leagues, fans, umpires, rain delays, the baseball itself, teams of note (A’s, Reds, Mets, Tigers, Pirates, Yankees, and more), statistics, records, stadiums, and synopses of games. I particularly enjoyed the quaint descriptions of the Spring Training environment, prior to a time when fans flocked to Arizona and Florida to see their favorite teams get ready for the season. Baseball has changed significantly since the 1970’s but this was a time when many of the seeds of current trends were sown. Angell’s obvious love of the game shines through his vivid portrayal of the sights, sounds, emotions, and personalities involved. Avid baseball fans will enjoy this compilation, especially those interested in nostalgia and the history of the game.
”The five baseball seasons just past are the most significant half-decade in the history of the game.”
”The game, we may conclude, is worth the candle. We have no other choice if we wish to hold on to this unique attachment, this particular patch of green.”
”The best baseball stories are probably appreciated only by true fans, who know the possibilities for unlikelihood, letdown, and wild mischance in their game, which can swing in an instant from morality play to variety show to farce.”
The 1970s were, arguably, the greatest decade in the history of Major League Baseball. That baseball decade was, without a doubt, the best I have experienced in my now fifty plus years as a fan. It was the decade I became a fan, the decade my home team, The Pittsburgh Pirates, was dominate, winning two great World Series and six divisional titles, the only baseball decade I experienced with the fresh enthusiasm of a child. So rereading Roger Angell’s Five Seasons, his collection of New Yorker essays covering half of that momentous decade’s seasons, was a bit like a return to Eden.
So much happened in the seasons covered, and Angell seemed to be there for it all. These were the seasons that the great Hank Aaron was chasing and surpassing Babe Ruth’s legendary home run record. Angell writes of Aaron in the ‘73 season, when at the age of 39 he hit 40 home runs and batted .301, finishing just one home run shy of the Babe’s record that year. He writes poignantly of the other great legend of the game, Willie Mays, playing out his final season during that same campaign:
Willie Mays, the oldest player in the National League has so far resisted the clear evidence that he should retire…his failures are now so cruel to watch that I am relieved when he is not in the lineup. It is hard enough for the rest of us to fall apart quite on our own; heroes should depart.”
Yet I was moved most, not by Angell’s writing of these Hall of Fame legends, but by his essay on the inexplicable fall of Pirates pitcher Steve Blass (Gone For Good). Blass was a far lesser baseball light than Aaron or Mays, but he was my first baseball hero. The essay on how Blass went from being the ace of the Pirates staff to being out of baseball in a two year span, and the class with which he handled his mysterious curse was a major incentive for me to read this collection.
But it’s not just the players. Angell wrote of changes in the game — the designated hitter rule in the American League, beginning in the ‘73 campaign (Angell was not a fan). He included an essay on a trio of super Tigers fans, an essay on the uniqueness of the ball and its role in baseball (baseball is the only team sport where the ball isn’t used to score). He devoted a chapter to stories told during a rain delay.
The balance of these chapters cover seasons and post seasons. I particularly enjoyed his chapters on the 1972 and 1973 post seasons. Some of his coverage of seasons and games can get a bit ponderous, but if, like me, the players he writes of here were the ones whose cards you first pulled out of bubble gum packs, you should enjoy the ride.
For starters, he is considered one of the masters of baseball writing. I picked up this book because there was some 1973 “Ya Gotta Believe” Mets content.
I am tempted to use the cliche “they don’t make it like this anymore”, but that’s simply not true. There is some great baseball writing out there.
But what I can say is the hype is true. Angell is as good as any body who’s ever wrote about baseball. There’s an observational level where Angell isn’t just writing about sport, but he’s talking about American life.
Five Seasons is a collection of writings so some of it is very “general audience” timeless tales like the story of three Tigers fans, he wrote for the New Yorker; or the story of Steve Blass who inexplicably and seemingly overnight went from AllStar pitcher to not being able to throw a strike. Other pieces are just stadium travelogues.
For that, it is hard to recommend Angell to non baseball fans, though it is still worth looking up those classic New Yorker articles just to experience this great American writer.
For me, the players here are the ones I grew up with. It really hit me hard in the nostalgia.
Five Seasons was probably randomly picked,since it was published in 1977 and happened to collect 1972 through 1976 as they had just passed. But with retrospect, they are important seasons. The As and Reds dynasties are here, as well as the Orioles on the descent and the Yankees on the ascent.
It’s hard not to think of these if not as the last glory years of baseball, at least the transition years. So much change: Players Union, the first labor strike (over pension), the Designated Hitter, night baseball, and free agency. Angell even talks about the way baseball scouting has changed
Charlie O Finley is here. He of the Orange Baseballs, the Designated Runner, and the extra pay bonus for players who would grow a mustache. He would take the best team in baseball and break them up with his penny-pinching ways.
Some great moments too. The 1975 World Series as good as one ever played. Hank Aaron pursuing Babe Ruth’s record. The seemingly ageless Willie Mays finally getting old. Lou Brock, Nolan Ryan Joe Morgan. So many names, often up and coming, written as it happened. The greats and the now forgotten.
Angell captures everything with a wide angle lens. So not only is his take on the game good, but he catches the fans in the stands. The crack of the bat as well as the peanuts and crackerjack.
Baseball (and life) always changes. Angell wrestles with ideas such as the San Francisco Giants being bought by a Japanese company, baseball on tv being called by Howard Cosell, and the eternal fight between owners and players. Heck, we still fight over the Designated Hitter, and disparity between players and owners gets ever wider.
Because it is a collection, there is some repetition. I do think anyone who really loves the game and regularly reads sports books will enjoy it. Otherwise, it may be too gigantic of a task for those who might come to the subject half-heartedly. That said, Angel’s writing is easy to find and every American should check out one of his famous stories.
Five Seasons is a great series of essays Angell penned between 1972 and 1977, mostly for the New Yorker. This period, Angell argues, was the most significant half-decade in the game's history. I don't know if he's changed his mind about that claim since the foreword was written, but the pieces included here make a compelling case.
The level of play during the 1970s, particularly in the postseason, was remarkably high. These years were also marked by labor strife and the beginnings of free agency. The particulars of these events are not unfamiliar to baseball fans but it is interesting to see a good writer react to them as they unfolded through the mid 70s.
Angell loves the Mets (and the great Tom Seaver) and his recounting of the 1973 pennant race is very memorable. I also appreciated the attention Angell pays to the ageing, but still very good, Detroit Tiger teams of that era. There is, of course, a long piece describing the already exhaustively covered '75 Series. This may have been my least favorite story in the collection and I suspect that is only because I have heard so much about it (and seen film of, I think, every game) that it's grown tiresome. But it's great stuff for Reds fans who want to relive the win and a keeper for Sox fans who feel they didn't receive sufficient attention from Ken Burns.
The best articles in the book include a long piece about scouting (my favorite), a great story about Horace Stoneham, and the famous Steve Blass article "Gone For Good". It's worth picking up a copy for these three essays alone.
This really is an essential read for baseball fans, particularly those of us who began to follow the game in the years that followed the ones Angell covers here. So many of the exceptional young players that pop up throughout the book were, by the time I was following the game closely, established veterans. Here we get a chance to find out how the early years went for them and how so many of the great players and journeymen of the previous generation wrapped up their careers.
Frankly, another review of a book in which the topic is baseball and the author is Roger Angell cannot either a) do justice to the book or b) say anything that hasn’t already been said. This collection of baseball essays from his days of writing for the New Yorker covers the time period of the 1972 -1976 seasons.
During this time frame, anything a reader can think of is covered. Scouting? Yes, a wonderful conversation with a long-time scout for the then-California Angels is retold. Business? Between the strike over player pension funds in 1972 (the first strike by the fairly new Major League Baseball Players Union) and the lockout during spring training in 1976, that’s covered. Fans? One wonderful chapter on three lifelong Detroit Tigers fans will have the reader both laughing and crying.
Of course, there’s plenty about the game on the field as well. Readers who were fans of the game at that time will enjoy reading about all of the star players. Everyone from Hank Aaron to Joe Morgan is mentioned as well as the best teams of that era – the Oakland A’s who won the World Series three consecutive seasons, the Big Red Machine otherwise known as the Cincinnati Red and the resurgence of the New York Yankees. Being a New Yorker, Angell also writes passionately about the New York Mets, which makes for some of the best reading in the book.
This review just scratches the surface of describing how much a baseball fan will enjoy this book, whether or not he or she was a fan of this period of baseball. Angell is an author whose books simply must be read by all baseball fans, no matter their age or team loyalties. Those who have read anything by him know what I mean – those that haven’t, this is one to pick up to get a glimpse into the immense talent he has for writing about the American Pastime.
Summary: Roger Angell essays covering the seasons of 1972 to 1976 that arguably transformed baseball into the sport it is today.
I’ve been discovering the marvelous baseball writing of the recently deceased Roger Angell, one of the great baseball writers. This book includes essays from the seasons of 1972 to 1976, my college years. One of the marvels of this collection was simply to relive in the reading the historic seven-game series between the Cincinnati Reds and the Boston Red Sox in 1975. It was the era of the Big Red Machine, Yaz, Carlton Fisk, Fred Lynn, and Luis Tiant with the Red Sox (the latter yet another great player traded away by the Indians!).
Along the way, he reminded me of the Oakland A’s championship teams united by their love of winning and their shared resentments of Charlie Finley, the brilliant and flawed club owner. By contrast, Angell recounts an afternoon watching the Giants in the twilight years of Horace Stoneham’s ownership, a gracious host.
We read of the final games of Willie Mays and Hank Aaron, as well as the years of Nolan Ryan’s greatness. He also writes of Steve Blass, who threw an amazing World Series game with the Pirates, and in subsequent years lost his control. He could pitch well in practice, his arm was sound, but he could not get his head sorted out. And finally he hung it up.
He takes us behind the scenes, at spring training games, the rebuilding of both Yankee Stadium and the Yankee team and Walter Alston’s brief playing career and the end of his managerial leadership of the Dodgers. We learn about the reserve clause that bound players to their teams, the fight to gain free agency, the owners lockout, and subsequent agreement that changed baseball as players won larger salaries and became more mobile. Angell tells the other side, about how many players want to remain in a community and hated trades.
One of the “behind-the-scenes” accounts in the book was Angell’s trip with Ray Scarborough, an Angel’s scout as he evaluated players. We learn what scouts looked for in pitchers (body, mechanics, and a good fastball with control) and hitters (good contact, whether they got hits or not) and the fraternity among them even though they scouted for rival clubs. It all came down to the draft and who chose who.
It was a time of change with the corporatization of the game, artificial turf, a changing of the guard of stars, and the power struggle between the Players Association and owners. But so much of this book just revels in the game, the ups and downs of each season, rain delays, and the quirks of each ball park, the contenders, the playoffs and the World Series. Angell reminded me of games I’d seen and players I remembered: Willie Stargell and Roberto Clemente, Vida Blue and Catfish Hunter, Reggie Jackson and Johnny Bench and Pete Rose (alias Charley Hustle).
For the young fan, the book tells us something of how we got to the present. For older fans, it is a time to remember. For all of us, Angell’s descriptions invite us to a special kind of fantasy baseball, reliving in our minds real games and personalities of the past.
This book is a time-capsule of 1970 professional baseball. The essays in "Five Seasons," were written between 1971- 1976: Five season, just as the title says. There are few summary comments and no "preface to the edition" which means the opinions and observations are frozen in time. For me this was part of the beauty. Being a child of the 70s, few things were more indulgent that pretending to be back in the decade of baby-blue double knits and plastic grass. There are recaps of all the World Series including the best piece in the collection about the 1975 World Series. There are some things that Roger Angell worries about in this volume that he needn't have concerned himself with -- like astro-turf becoming the standard and the World Series moving to a neutral location ("it will happen.") There are other things that he is spot on about, like the growth of free agency which was just underway. But perhaps the most fascinating of all is how many of his gripes are still gripes today -- the continued bickering between owners and players, the constant commercials, the concern to make money above appreciating the game and, indeed, the belief that the game is dying.
This book is a fantastic vignette of short stories and coverage of five baseball seasons, from 1972 through 1976. The best stories are:
A profile of Steve Blass, who won Game 7 of the World Series for the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1971, won 20 games in 1972, mysteriously lost the ability to throw strikes in 1973, and was working as a traveling sales rep in 1974.
“Three for the Tigers” — a fantastic account of three close friends who grew up as huge Detroit Tigers fans. So funny, and sentimental too.
Probably one of the definitive recaps of the classic 1975 World Series between the Cincinnati Reds and the Boston Red Sox.
And finally a profile of Ray Scarborough, an old time baseball scout. The author follows him on his journeys through America’s backroads and ball fields, looking for the next Hall of Famer.
As Spring Training hit full swing this year it seemed the perfect time to revisit another of Angell's fantastic baseball writing. This book covering the 73 through 77 seasons had some excellent pieces. While the Oakland A's and Cincinnati Reds bookended the period with two championships each the most notable was the 75 season with that Series for,the ages, between the Sox and Reds. And by the end of 1977 the Yankees were once again World Champions.
The strongest chapter in the book is a long look at Steve Blass, the very successful Pirates pitcher who in the spring of 1973 began to suffer from what has become in baseball parlance since then as " Steve Blass " disease. Suddenly unable to throw the ball over the plate he underwent a two year journey into oblivion, his team, management and teammates both, going from patient and understanding to shocked and disbelief over his inability to right himself. Now, almost fifty years later, we can list the players who have suffered as a pitcher such as Rick Ankiel and Mark Wohlers to various position players, most notably Yankee second basemen Steve Sax. As a Red Sox fan I remember some lesser known examples as Jarrod Saltamachia, a catcher who struggled throw the ball back to the pitcher and Julian Tavares, a journeyman relief pitcher that by the end of his career was rolling the ball to first base when he had to field a tapper back to the mound. This blatant example of the mental impeding the physical aspect of the game was a strange sight in 1973 and Steve Blass handled it about as well as one could have expected. Certainly it helped that he had had a measure of success beforehand that disallowed any presumption of flakiness as otherwise in that time of place might have been used to sweep his story aside. Today, we hear about an example almost yearly, the most recent being Cubs pitcher Jon Lester who at times has been all but incapable of holding runners in first base.
The other feature article to me was Angell's choice to spend the afternoon with long time Giants owner Horace Stoneham. His family had owned the club for over fifty years but as it became clear the finances of the team were at a point where they needed a significant boost Mr. Stoneham was expected to sell. The author spends an afternoon at the park on a cold ( it was always cold at Candlestick ) early summer afternoon and was regaled with story after after story of old baseball.
The overarching theme of this era of baseball was the coming end to the owners complete domination of the game. With the reserve clause being challenged repeatedly in the courts and the antitrust exemption hanging over the owners heads it, as a modern observer, was both disheartening and totally unsurprising to see the ownership group act no differently than the oil barons, industrialists ( that many of them were in their other lives ) have always acted when faced with recalcitrant employees having the nerve to ask for more rights, privileges, and especially compensation. It is interesting to watch the author easily take the side of the players in these battles, criticize the fans for their knee jerk reaction usually against the players, yet at the same time admit that the big business side of the game might turn his feelings for the game backwards forever.
Without going into a long term digression on labor politics in America it will never be understood by this party how the average citizen can or could side with the owners in this industry or frankly any other against workers striving for fairer treatment.
Of course Angell feature strong writing on each years postseason playoffs and World Series. The Oakland A's a classic team, champions thrice, beset by both their opponents, their limited fans in attendance, sometimes fighting amongst themselves and always angry at their interfering, parsimonious, owner Charles O Finley. The Big Red Machine of the Reds with Pete Rose in the tenth inning of the Classic Game Six turning to Carlton Fisk ( who had his own appointment with destiny in a couple of innings ) as he stepped into the batters box and saying " this is quite a game isn't it."
Pretty great book that's now 40-plus years old. It's amazing how many things hadn't happened at the time of the writing, but also which things were starting to happen and which Roger Angell picked up on. If you can get beyond the somewhat repetitive odes to spring training that occur five times ("Five Seasons"), then pretty much everything else is spot-on.
The format of the book is basically the following. Each of 5 seasons (1977-81), Roger Angell starts at spring training with a discussion of what that's like and his love for the timeless rituals of baseball and his fears that the increased emphasis on money and TV revenue is killing the game. Then he has a couple of chapters that summarize the season that follows, with an emphasis on the playoffs and World Series and the accomplishments of star players. Then rinse and repeat. I think these pieces were originally in "The New Yorker" magazine, of which he was an editor for decades, though it seems they were lengthened and updated with information that occurred after they originally appeared.
For anyone who remembers those baseball years, this is a great nostalgia trip. Baseball's appeal includes a lot of nostalgia, so this is a great formula, and Angell is one of the masters of it. He loves sitting in the sun watching a spring game in Arizona, shooting the breeze with a manager or player, and musing about everything from how to hold a curveball to the optimism of the next promising star on a team's horizon. The patience he must have had to sit there, day after day, watching game after game. I have always wondered how the ballplayers can do it, especially the ones who don't play or pitch very often. I go to 5-15 games per year (majors and lower levels), and that's more than enough for me. To go to 200 games a year (regular season and spring training) is unimaginable.
There's way too much in this book to give it even a cursory review, but I'll list a few things that I recall:
I love his descriptions of how Pete Rose comes to the plate, eager and confident he will get a hit, and then how he holds his helmet with his right hand as he rounds first base. Angell gets the description just right of Rose's stance, attitude, intelligence, and so on. And he gives you just a taste of the insane competitiveness of Rose that led him to gamble away his place in the game a decade later. Similarly, Angell reflects the awe that everyone had at the time about Steve Garvey, the Dodgers star first baseman with the looks (and forearms) of Superman; we know that Garvey had some serious flaws as a human being, and we'll soon be reminded as he now embarks on an attempt for the U.S. Senate.
Reggie Jackson's profile comes out with more subtlety than most writers were giving him at the time, as Angell makes a point of letting Jackson show his intelligence and give his specific reasons for being a proud Black man. This is a reminder, by the way, of how Black players dominated the game in the 1960s and 1970s, as so many of the stars who are profiled or prominently mentioned are Black: Willie Stargell, Bob Gibson, Eddie Murray, Lou Brock, and so on. The game has lost its Black stars today, a prospect that probably didn't occur to Angell at the time.
One fascinating point made is that the game was at its peak of popularity during those years. Attendance set records each of the first three years of his writing and dipped a tiny bit in Year 4. But then Year 5 (1981) was the year that players struck in June. This led to a two-tier playoff system of the "winner" of the pre-strike half-season vs. the winner of the post-strike half-season. It was a solution that satisfied no one, and Angell pinpoints it as the start of a decline. He states more than once that the big loser in the strike was baseball because it angered the fans. And, frankly, the game has never recovered from that blow, even though obviously TV revenue and salaries and team values are way up from those days. But a sort of innocence that surrounded the game was shattered for the final time.
One minor dispute with Angell. He says repeatedly that baseball is the hardest sport to play, nothing is harder in sports than hitting a baseball, etc. Yes, it's very hard to hit a baseball and even harder to get a base hit. I get it that the pitchers throw fast and can curve the ball and that they're only 60 feet, 6 inches away. But Angell ascribes the greatest difficulty to baseball numerous times in this book, and I simply don't see it. Just from my days of playing every sport as a kid (and none of them well!), I think it's much harder to coordinate the blocking of a football team for a simple sweep play than it is to stand by yourself and try to hit a baseball. It's incredibly hard to run across a tennis court over and over, and return the ball on the court, compared to fielding a couple of batted balls in an afternoon. And so on. Baseball takes extraordinary hand-eye coordination, but that's only one type of skill that's hard to achieve. Brute force or agility or a dozen other things are equally hard, and I wouldn't put baseball at the top of the pantheon.
Here's a couple other cool things in the book. The Red Sox were pretty good in the late 70s, but they fell short to the big-spending Yankees and the ultra-smart Orioles. For decades, they were seen as a slugging team with no speed, defense or pitching. They broke up that team around 1980, as Angell acts as if there's no chance for a turnaround on the horizon. But there was, as they reached the 1986 World Series with this guy named Roger Clemens as their ace -- a mere 5 seasons after the last one chronicled in this book. Meanwhile, the NY Mets were perhaps the worst team in baseball during the 5 seasons of this book, and because Angell was writing for a New York-oriented audience he spends more time lamenting them than he would otherwise. He gives no hint that they will turn things around either, but that's who the Red Sox played in the '86 Series, and the Mets were clearly the best team in baseball at that time. Angell notes that the Mets had drafted the wonderfully named Darryl Strawberry in 1981, but he didn't know that The Straw was the start of a resurgent team.
Here's another one that sneaks in. Angell goes to watch the Kansas City-Philadelphia World Series in 1980. He has dinner with a couple of friends, and they bring a friend named Bill James. Yes, that Bill James who was in the process of revolutionizing how the game is understood and played. What a cool thing to imagine Roger Angell, the bard of baseball, sitting with Bill James, who both loves the history of the game but also had a clear-eyed view about many of the myths that Angell happily absorbed and retold. To cite one juicy example in the game, Angell tells a story about some hapless free swinging hitter who went more than 300 at-bats in the 1980 or '81 season without a walk. In the last game of the year, he got a walk, and not only did both teams cheer, but the ump gave him the ball as a keepsake. That guy wouldn't get out of the low minors today, and Bill James probably knew in 1980 (definitely knew!) that this guy was a disaster.
Anyway, this is a lovely book. It was nostalgic even when it was written, but it feels even more sepia-toned now. This book is pre-steroids, pre- idiots like Jose Canseco and Roger Clemens, pre- several more labor interruptions. Spring training games were popular even then, Angell reminds us when he sits in sold-out stadiums, but they weren't the mass-marketed events they are now. There was still a slow pace to the game, but it wasn't so bad that we needed the pitch clock initiated in 2023; we could still indulge a pitcher like Steve Carlton in a walk behind the mound when he was handed a new baseball, or a series of toe taps and bat taps from Amos Otis before he set himself in the batters' box. Our world has quickened, and we are demanding faster baseball. But Roger Angell reminds us that there's value still in slowing down and enjoying the ride.
The 1970s was a turbulent time in baseball, and this was one of the first books written about that era. It's poetic prose covers personalities and stories, along with history and anecdotes of five seasons - including the best world series ever.
This era saw the start of free agency and the first DH in the world series. Angell's comments that those championship games were played "too late in the year" were true then, and three weeks more so now. The essay on Steve Blass "Gone for Good" was clearly the best in the book.
The book is enhanced by the internet sources available now - after reading Angell's excellent description of Herb Washington in the 1974 world series, I was able to find a television broadcast of the event. Box scores of the games he was at or talked about, whatever happened to Dick Allen, etc.
I liked the book a lot, but it didn't hold my attention as The Summer Game did. Rambling paragraphs speculating on the future of some players feel out of place among the well-written prose - this was the stuff of newspapers at the time. Minor complaints, really - I look forward to more from Roger Angell, who celebrated his 101st birthday last year.
Lou Brock Hank Aaron Roberto Clemente Roger Angell has accomplished what no writer has done for me for a long time - brought me back to my childhood. When I was 10 years old went with my family to sporting events like Black Hawks games at the old Madhouse on Madison, Cubs + Sox games and watching a lot of baseball on TV and listening to Hawks games on the radio. Names like Joe Morgan, Steve Garvey, Rollie Fingers, Ron Cey, Catfish Hunter, Willie Stargell, Steve Carlton, Johnny Bench, Carl Yastrzemski, Larry Bowa, Cesar Cedeno, Dick Allen, Billy Williams, Jose Cardenal are not unfamiliar. The story of Steve Blass was at the time of writing, heartbreaking. Glad it turned out so well for him starting in the 80s when he began a 30+ year career announcing for the Pirates. Charlie O. Finley turned out to be meaner than I knew, while the colorful Oakland A's more than lived up to their reputation. One of my favorite quotes from the book, "(Luis)Tiant...was in top form, wheeling and rotating on the mound like a figure in a Bavarian clock tower..." This book has been a great escape from the political madness engulfing the US. Roger Angell is a treasure.
It's taken as Bible-truth that Angell is the best baseball writer on the planet. This book shows the reader why that's the case. Angell is a wordsmith without being showy about it and an insider who convincingly dresses up as a fan. "Three for the Tigers" and "The Scout" are two true standout pieces, but the whole book is a treasure, even the recaps of seasons long since passed. At times, the writing/references seem dated (which, duh, they are), but this book holds up remarkably well on the whole. You need to be a baseball fan to enjoy it, and if you are a baseball fan, you need to read it.
This one was recommended to me by Goodreads. I usually enjoy books containing sports and I gave this a try. I loved it. The content is the five baseball seasons 1972 thru 1976 and some significant history of the sport that passed thru those years. A few are Hank Aaron's passing of Ruth's record. Nolan Ryan's record number of no hitters. And Lou Brock's stolen base record.( at the time) I enjoyed the content because it brought me back to years when players I saw growing up in the late sixties, who were still playing in this book's time, were included in this writing. Love the nostalgia. Some of the stuff I remembered, some was news to me. I also loved the actual writing. Here, I will include a small part to give you an idea. "It was a warm late-May night, summer having finally caught up with baseball, and the smallish crowd, having nothing much to cheer about, fell into a soft, languid murmuration". I felt like I knew exactly what he was trying to lay on me with that sentence. BTW, the word murmuration was something he made up. It is underlined in red in this Goodreads word processor. So is the word Goodreads. :) Another part I liked was a written illustration of Angell's activity dedicated to watching TV because there were several baseball games he could watch. His description switches channels often, going from baseball game to game. he also includes a stop on a channel with a WC Fields movie going. Another with Tyrone Power on it. He catches a college football game going. Etc Etc. His rabid channel surfing reminded me of myself,,,a little. Another part detailed his attendance at Spring Training and I found it very entertaining. It covers some of the odd stuff that occurs in this part of baseball and it is funny and interesting. I enjoyed it hugely. (I made a note in the margin of one of these pages saying "this may be the best chapter of the book". One last part was his writing on the ruination of baseball because of things like the designated hitter and also the announcers, who were adding so much unnecessary commentary during the game about stats, color, bad jokes, and distracting interviews of players all while the game is being played. I have wondered about these things myself at times, even today. I won't take more time now. I swear these are not spoilers. I couldn't stop myself from including these in my review. I think any baseball fan would enjoy this book, especially if they were a fan during these years which are written about here.
As one must expect with an essay collection, there are ups and downs. The ups make you wonder how anyone else would dare write about the game of baseball in Angell's wake. The downs make you skim, though not resentfully.
In general, Angell is at his best when he is examining a specific person and how they fit into the baseball landscape. He draws his characters beautifully, often imparting a melancholic edge while also being self-aware enough to critique his penchant for imparting melancholic edges. This helps paint a picture of baseball in the 1970's: how much is different and how much is unchanged. By contrast, he is less compelling as he describes the play-by-play of championship series, the reader having the feeling that not much is gained by his description that one could not get elsewhere. Angell certainly has a way with words, but it's hard to make game summaries compelling in themselves when he's so far removed from the human element, half the time watching them on TV.
It's worth taking some time with this one, but a reader shouldn't feel bad if they don't dig deep into each essay. If I were to re-read this one someday, I'd probably limit myself to the following essays: -On the Ball (how pitching works) -Landscape, with Figures (statistical analysis, 70's style) -Sunny Side of the Street (good anecdotes from spring training) -Gone for Good (the Steve Blass "yips" story) -The Companions of the Game (the end of the Horace Stoneham era with the Giants) -Scout (the transition into the draft-era of amateur scouting)
Published in 1977, today, Five Seasons by Roger Angell is a throwback. And it's a wonderful return to Major League Baseball before it fully became the big business sport we have today. Angell, with his wonderful use of words, never shies from telling the reader that he is first and foremost a baseball fan, not merely a journalist covering his beat. His passion for the game is reflected on every page. Covering 1971 through 1976, Angell explores every aspect of the game, including but nowhere near limited to the fans, ownership, scouting, management, each season and the players themselves. There's still a degree of innocence, of playing for the love of the game, but the dark clouds that will forever change baseball are descending quickly. Angell, while not shy about expressing his love for the game, is equally not shy about pointing out how professional baseball in the 70s is going to hell in a handbasket, or a first baseman's glove. He is highly critical of the American League's designated hitter; World Series night games, the threat of interleague games, team expansion, self serving owners (especially Charles O. Finley of the Oakland A's), and as much as he endorses the players looking after the players, Angell expresses his disappointment in where free agency is taking the game. Five Seasons is an incredible look back at baseball as it was, but isn't naive about where it was heading.
When it comes to baseball writing, Roger Angell is the best there is.
“What I do know is that this belonging and caring is what our games are all about; this is what we come for. It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitative as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look—I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring—caring deeply and passionately, really caring—which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. And so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naïveté—the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball—seems a small price to pay for such a gift.”
Roger Angell was a national treasure. A native New Yorker, he fittingly was an editor (of fiction, I think) at The New Yorker magazine. He wrote beautifully about his growing up and his experiences at the magazine in his memoir. But I think it safe to say his true passion and abiding love was for baseball. He wrote a series of books chronicling various seasons of the game during the 1960s and 70s. As a kid who grew up loving the game, Angell’s books touched me deeply and brought me back to those times. Five Seasons is the final book in that series. It’s a wonderful read. But also a sad one. Angell recognized that the sport he grew up loving was changing. There was a loss of innocence as baseball moved from the national pastime to just another slickly produced “entertainment.” Money, corporate ownership, gimmicks, and the demands of television were all combining to rob the game of its beauty. I would give this book 5 stars, but the sadness in the author’s voice made me wish for a happier ending. Angell didn’t let me down, the reality of what Angell saw coming did.
This book is a collection of essays covering, yes, Five Seasons of baseball (1972-1976), which coincidentally was at the height of my baseball fandom (ages 9-13) when I was obsessed with Strat-O-Matic baseball (tabletop baseball strategy game). It's also a time of a great change in the game - the DH, free agency and AL expansion. But the beauty in the collection isn't the nostalgia for a bygone era, but sheer beauty and eloquence of the writing. Aside from highlights of the seasons (including a great chapter on the 1975 World Series), there were detours into the life of baseball scout and a group of middle aged men obsessed with the Detroit Tigers since childhood. It was equal parts narration, humor, social commentary and reflection. And at the risk of sounding trite, you really don't need to be a baseball fan to enjoy this book, but it does help! Roger Angell is head and shoulders above any baseball writing and this was one of those serendipitous finds in a used bookstore that was worth far more than the $10 I paid (Thanks to Green Apple Books on Clement Street!!)
A delight for baseball fans. Few if any writers have written about the sport with more intelligence, verve and good humor. The book is a compilation of articles Angell wrote during 1972-76, a period that he viewed as perhaps the most significant in baseball history. The death of the reserve clause. the increasing visibility of the business side of the game, the role of television and gimmickry to increase attendance, viewership and profits he saw as alarming and injurious. He may have been right to a certain degree; however, some of what he foresaw did not come to pass, e.g. the World Series becoming a Super Bowl-like event. Angell is first and foremost a fan and a bit of a curmudgeon, critical of some of the changes, the DH and league expansion for example, that occurred in the 70's. Nevertheless a fun read in these strange times when we're without the game.
As always, Angell's descriptions of the on-field game--individual games, portions of seasons, playoff series and the world series--are terrific. He captures the essence of the game he's describing in short summaries.
But much of this collection of New Yorker articles focuses on off-field aspects: the onset of free agency and the difficult negotiations between owners and players, changes in the traditions of the game and the like. I found these sections of the book a bit tedious and dated. And Angell's traditionalist views can be irritating.
There is a really good chapter (actually, an article) about scouting which is a fascinating look at what then seemed to be a disappearing aspect of the game.
Roger Angell has to be the best sportswriter I’ve read. This book is a journey back in time, but so much of his concerns (new rules like the DH; free agency; night games in October; astroturf) are so similar to our own time’s (pace of play; three true outcomes; ads on jerseys) in how they impact the viewer that it feels as if no time has passed between then and now. This is largely due to the humanity and care with which Angell writes and his ability to reflect on an issue from the point of view of a fan while still being able to pull back and give the broader perspective. I cherished and will remember many vignettes contained herein and I urge others to enjoy themselves with a trip to Roger Angell’s world of baseball.
Excellent book about baseball during the mid 1970s. Along with reliving many of the highlights of the seasons from 1972-1976, the book also discusses how the game was changing from a business perspective. It deals with the onset of free agency, and the changes in the way scouting was done in order to find and hire new baseball talent. I really enjoyed this book, having lived through this time in baseball history. However, in order to enjoy/appreciate this book, I think you need to be a baseball fan, and probably a fan during the 1970s. If you were a baseball fan during this era, you will enjoy the book. If not, you should probably skip this one.
Roger Angell worked for the New Yorker for almost eighty years and died last month. I saw his obituary while flipping through the weekend FT and vaguely recalled I'd seen his name on a book in one of my piles. Sure enough, this compendium of Angell's baseball writing from the 1970s had been sitting in my baseball stack for some time. I'm glad to have finally re-discovered it because Angell may be one of the finest writers of baseball I've come across. This man was a serious lifelong fan and student of the game who nominally wrote for a popular audience but really spoke to the true lovers of the sport. If you like thinking about baseball, you'll like this book.
I’m on a mission to read a series of Roger Angell books and this marked number two, following The Summer Game, which covered 10 seasons, 1962-1971. This book, Five Seasons, picks up where Angell left off, ending with the 1976 World Series. Perhaps because I actually was old enough to remember these later years, I found this volume more interesting. It is more than 100 pages longer and covers a more diverse array of topics. I especially enjoyed the chapters on scouting and pitcher Steve Blass who mysteriously lost his control.
A delightful collection of baseball stories from one of the finest baseball writers we'll ever know. I especially relished tales of teams/players from my early childhood (1972-76), those I knew more from baseball cards than any newspaper/magazine/broadcast. Angell lived a long life (101 years), and I believe a happy one, based on his devotion to the world's greatest game. "We are trying to conserve something that seems as intricate and lovely to us as any river valley." Great writing, like a distinctive baseball memory, never dies.
DNF, but will get back to it. I wanted to read Angell because of his reputation as the consummate baseball writer. I wasn’t disappointed. This was a nostalgic trip for me through part of the 70’s—reading all about some of my favorite teams. It brought back a lot of names I had forgotten and told some good stories. But it is relentless baseball stuff and I just grew weary trying to read it straight through. No worries—I’ll just pick it up later and read it like short stories—which the chapters really are. Enjoyable.
It is very interesting to read Angell on baseball seasons that I remember from my early days as a fan. He writes brilliantly, avoiding cliches and bringing an ordinary fan's perspective. It's fun to read how much he loathed the encroachment of a business mindset on the game -- World Series night games, the DH, expansion, playoffs. All those things have continued apace -- we now have three rounds of playoffs before the World Series instead of the one that Angell deplored. But, he would agree, baseball is still pretty great.
Great collection of essays, especially his essay on the 1975 World Series, which includes a splendid little elegy on what sports fandom means. More than his earlier collection, reflects the changes in the business of baseball in the 1970s. His views became much more progressive - friendly to the players, critical of owners - than earlier. (Also, good reminder of just how great an era the 1970s actually was for baseball.)