This account of the unheralded 1961 Cincinnati Reds pennant-winning season isn't bad, but it falls well short of the kind of baseball writing found in similar books by David Halberstam, Robert Creamer, Buster Olney et al. It's a little too heavy, in my view, on game-by-game rehashes of who did exactly what, and too light on telling us who these men were. Oh, it has some of that, to be sure. I enjoyed reading about Gene Freese's jocular humor, Frank Robinson's toughness in the face of nagging injuries and the burden of being the team's star player, and rookie Jim Maloney's youthful wonder at appearing in a World Series game. However, by and large, I learned nothing about most of the players on the team beyond what reading the backs of their bubble gum cards could have told me.
Maybe it's of interest to diehard long-time super Reds fanatics of the nth degree, but I groaned inwardly at the pages about who the groundskeepers were, who ran the concessions, who the scouts were, the names of their wives and children, and on and on. That said, I got a real feel for Crosley Field from reading this book. I never saw a game there, though I did see it from the highway the year after the team stopped playing there. All in all, this book isn't terrible, but could have been a lot better.