[2023 review]
I liked this book even more on a second read and I'm upping my review to five stars. I disagree with my former self: I DID find elements incredible this time around. At every turn where the author had the chance to go for a cliche middle-grade Triumphant Scene, she dodges the obvious and goes for a difficult but more believable outcome. This is a rare sports story that doesn't just pretend to "not be about winning"--this is truly about the joy of teamwork, the joy of growth, the joy of the sensory experience of baseball. I mean, I was transported. Peter Lee and his friends love the chain-link fence between their fingers, the crack of bat on ball, the dust they slide through, the slap of a high five, the holler of a chant. Everything feels so gloriously immediate and alive, such that baseball itself becomes the story, not the outcome of a certain championship or game. I don't exaggerate when I say that this is the best sports story I've ever read. Baseball is the perfect lens through which to explore the pain of a family that has lost a member and the power of community to band together in the face of oppression or great suffering. This book manages to tackle racism, sexism, death, platitudes, generational disconnect, and insurmountable loss without ever feeling like it's taking on too much. I want to be a kid again and live in this book, just for a month or so, to play baseball with Peter. What a masterful story.
[2018 review]
No one element of this book stood out to me enough to rate it as incredible, but I'd happily pass it on to any kid. Several difficult topics were handled with nuance, and the author avoided easy answers or trite solutions. This book took me back to my own childhood recesses and ball games, afternoons with one hand sweating inside a leather glove, the slide of runner into base, the sound of kids yelling chants and rattling a chain-link fence. Simply put, this book made me miss baseball.