This was a much better book than I anticipated, with a lot more depth and emotion than a typical "as told to" baseball biography. Written in about 1990, it shows the growing equality of baseball and the nation at the time, but with the horrible racism of prior decades fully fresh in Hank Aaron's mind. Reading what Aaron and his fellow Black players had to go through, the Black Lives Matter movement of today makes a lot more sense. This book sets the record straight, both on the lives of Black players in the 1950s-1970s and also on Aaron's rather outspoken role in arguing for fairness and dignity for himself and his peers.
On top of this, the book reveals Aaron to be proud, prickly, and defensive. It's to his credit that he shows himself, warts and all, in an authorized biography. He says that he's not a good talker, but mostly a listener. He alludes to faults that led to the dissolution of his marriage with four young kids. He complains about his lack of attention compared to Willie Mays and even to lesser teammates like Rico Carty, as he (Aaron) wasn't good at playing the PR game. And he rattles off the reasons that he thinks he's the greatest hitter who ever lived, as if the reader is arguing with him in a bar. I like these insights a lot.
At one level, this book is a biography of a great baseball player's career. Hank Aaron retired as baseball's all-time leader in home runs, runs scored, total bases and (I think) runs batted in. There's no question he was one of the greatest hitters ever, with a longevity of quality production that has never been matched. However, he was taken for granted for most of his career, as his play was not flashy, his team locations were dull (Milwaukee and Atlanta), and he rarely led the league in any category. And then, suddenly, when he approached Babe Ruth's home run record and subsequently passed it, he was for a time the most famous man in America. Hank Aaron was one of those overnight successes like a singer who has a top song, but who really built his success over 20 years, though few people had been noticing.
The book chronicles Aaron season-by-season, from his youth, to a year in the Negro Leagues during its last dying days, to the role of a Black minor leaguer integrating a Georgia-Florida system, to his role on the great Milwaukee Braves teams of the late 1950s, to his yearly stardom as the team declined in the 1960s and eventually moved to Atlanta. And then the frenzy as he approached Babe Ruth's record.
The season chronicles are interesting because Aaron gives snapshots of players on his team and top opponents, with brief, telling anecdotes. And these aren't always kind. He talks about the obvious and the subtle racism of people like Warren Spahn on his team, or opposing pitchers who threw at him. He writes about which managers supported the Black players, literally by eating with them in kitchens when they weren't allowed in restaurants, and which managers and players were indifferent to the cruelty. Aaron praises Eddie Matthews, another of baseball's underappreciated stars, and he tries to rehabilitate the image of his brother, Tommie, who was a lousy major leaguer but a very promising manager until his early death from disease. Aaron isn't afraid to name names, either of people who were not supportive, or of those kept Black athletes down through measures such as limiting the number of Black players on the field at one time, or of keeping the aging White guy on the bench instead of the younger, slightly better Black guy.
The way this book is structured is unusual, and it works well for the telling of the anecdotes. The author says he interviewed more than 100 people, and it shows. Basically, Aaron will have relayed some type of story about his experience, and then the author will track down someone affiliated with that experience, who will verify it and amplify on some aspects. This has the effect of reinforcing the truth of Aaron's stories -- and this is very important both in a baseball book (because baseball is full of tall tales and half-remembered events) and in a racial sense (because the things Aaron describes are hard to believe, until you have others verifying them). This format keeps the book at a crisp pace, but also with depth because you get the same story from multiple angles (like Faulkner, though I'm not comparing this to Faulkner in any way).
Among the most interesting anecdotes are those I mentioned about what it was like in the Negro Leagues, and the early racism Aaron and others endured in the minors. I knew that stuff, but it's told well here. Aaron's love for Milwaukee's fans was a surprise to me, and he really does seem to be describing a golden era of baseball in the lats-50s/early-60s.
I also found illuminating the description of how he went from being a high-average hitter -- some people, Aaron included, thought he might be able to hit .400 for a season -- to a home run hitter by lofting the ball slightly more. Along with that, Aaron states over and over again that he spent a lot of time studying pitchers and thinking about how he would hit them. He contrasts this with the racism of sportswriters of the time -- singling out Dick Young -- for stating that Aaron was just a natural hitter who didn't think at all at the plate. He even reprints some sections of their dialect-strewn columns that make him out to be an ignorant savant who "jes' sees de ball and hits it." And again, he backs this up with quotes from teammates and opposing pitchers, who knew that he knew what he was doing.
A final note. This book is a bit of a one-note on racism, and towards the end I got a little tired of it. Aaron shares 20 or 30 letters of hate mail he received while chasing Ruth's record. The "N word" is in most of them. This is shocking and horrible, but I didn't need to see 30 of them. Four would have gotten the point across. The same thing as Aaron describes his back-forth with the Braves management late in his career and early in retirement as he took a front office job. Aaron wanted to make sure it was a real job, not a publicity stunt, and it's clear he took it seriously. It's also clear that outsiders (sportswriters) viewed him as a front man, not a thinker. I get that Aaron wanted to set the record straight. But it could have been done more briefly.
In sum, this book holds up very well even 30 years after publication. As Hank Aaron observes, he played across a crucial era, with the transition to having Black players in baseball established by the time he joined the Braves, but with the kinks far from worked out. He played through the socially tumultuous 1960s, often speaking on racial matters. And when he got a national platform in 1973-74 with his pursuit of Babe Ruth, he didn't hesitate to speak out more. He did baseball and our nation a great service, and this book lays out his case for being remembered for a long time.