Review: In Scoring Position (2022)

By Bob Ryan and Bill Chuck

Bob Ryan and I have at least one thing in common. We reflexively, and perhaps even compulsively, keep score at baseball games. 

That was a skill that many people knew back in the day, which is why teams sold scorecards at games. Now, if you go to a game, you are in a distinct minority if scribble down the lineups before the game and then follow the action by pen and pencil. Me, it adds to my enjoyment of the game and provides some context to what has happened. 

The difference between Bob (OK, I've met him a few times) and me is that he has put all of his scoring efforts into personal scorebooks. I started doing that about 15 years ago, but haven't quite seen enough games to fill up the thick book with games yet. (Don't worry, Book No. 2 is on my on-deck circle, warming up.) The books no doubt fill up a shelf in Bob's home, waiting to be reviewed.

And reviewed they were at the start of the pandemic. After all, what else was there to do? Bill Chuck, a veteran baseball researcher, heard about Ryan's hobby and wondered if there might be a book floating around somewhere in those old scorebooks. 

It turned out Chuck was right. The resulting book was called "In Scoring Position," a nice play on words right off the bat.

We start with a May 7, 1977 game in Fenway Park in Boston, as Bob Stanley blanks the Angels. We end on April 19, 2021, as the Red Sox allowed some fans back in the building for the first time since the height of the pandemic. The book is produced with a similar format for each game. After a reproduction of one of the pages from the original scorebook, Ryan writes about the game itself - sometimes quoting his own game story, and at other times telling about how he came to be at that particular game. 

Chuck then follows along with pieces of information that are either directly or indirectly connected to the game. He's really good at this stuff, and it shows with every page. I enjoy such material, particularly to drop into my print stories. (Confession: I keep track of a variety of things for my lacrosse stories, so that I can ask questions such as "Your team hasn't opened a game with a 6-0 lead since at least 2005. What did that do for you during the rest of the game?" That drew a double-take and a "How did you know that?" from the coach.)

Put these qualities, and these two people who are really good at their jobs, together, and you should come up with a good book. And for some people, this publication will meet that description perfectly. But it's unlikely that some readers will be as enthusiastic as the natural base.

The first catch comes with the fact that this book is filled with Red Sox games. That is no surprise, since Ryan has lived in the Boston area for all his professional life. So most of the names and some of the trivia are centered around the Red Sox. If you follow this particular New England team, this is fine. But if you are sitting in Minnesota trying to keep up with the Twins, well, this might leave you a little, um, cold. 

The image of one page of the scorebook (in other words, only one team's batting order) leads off each game, but it is small. I suppose you could get really close to the page or use a magnifying glass (do they still have those?) to read the plays of a particular game, but that's quite a bit of work. I'm not sure if a slightly bigger image might have helped enough to make it useful, but its current size is going to make it more of a decoration than a tool for the reader. 

In addition, this book goes for almost 450 pages. That's a lot of games. In fact, it's probably too many. Cutting the volume down to 350 pages might have helped. After all, since all of the games are bite-sized individual stories, there's not much to push you along through the book. 

"In Scoring Position" is a fun read, but maybe it could have been better. Maybe someone will try this format in a more generic way. In other words, "Baseball's Greatest Games" - complete with a readable scorecard and related facts - or "World Series Games of 2000s" might do pretty well. 

Three stars

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Review: Alive and Kicking (2021)

By Michael Lewis

The Buffalo History Museum used to sponsor an authors' gathering on the Saturday afternoon after Thanksgiving.  A local group would gather in an attempt to sell books to the public in the Holiday season. 

The subjects of those books were all over the place, and sometimes the same people would be back, year after year. I can't say I paid much attention to the writers of fiction, since I never read that category (I will add quickly that I can appreciate the efforts of someone who made up a good story; I could never do that.)

As for the nonfiction writers, their dedication certainly was on display. They sometimes take a narrow subject and expound on it for a few hundred pages - even though it might not be of great interest to many people besides themselves. You've got to love it to do it.

That brings the conversation to Michael Lewis. He's a writer who worked in the Rochester area for a while and almost stumbled on the world of soccer through an assignment. And ... he learned to like it. Michael not only followed Rochester's voyage through the stormy seas of American soccer history, but he even popped up in Buffalo a few times to cover that city's indoor soccer developments. Those seas were pretty stormy too at times, and the cast of characters sometimes overlapped. Lewis went on to other positions, and he's stuck with soccer along the way.

That makes him the perfect candidate to write a history of the Rochester Lancers. The book is called "Alive and Kicking," and its depth is a little overwhelming.

That team was its city's only entry into the big time in sports, surviving by accident over the years with its finances hanging by a shoestring. Soccer in this country sort of bubbled up from a collection of local teams, often involving immigrants. The nation's leagues started to become more organized in the 1960s, and Rochester's team sort of hung around when national leagues were being formed. 

That led to a problem, particularly as some major financial players moved into the game in the 1970s. Rochester's team was still in Rochester, a region without that many people compared to the opposing cities. Add to the fact that it used a high school football stadium as its home, and the Lancers were always playing from behind economically. The franchise finally perished after the 1980 season. 

Still, it was quite a ride. Part of that was due to the financial problems, which always leads to odd events such as player and coach turnover and bizarre road trips. Soccer also attracted some interesting personalities. It probably took a special type of person to try to plant the seeds of soccer in a new land, and those who came to America certainly qualified. 

The games are included there, of course, in the loving detail that only a true fanatic would appreciate. But the stories are here too - of unexpected heroes, villains and rivalries; of ownership fights; and of coaches charging onto the field to personally complain about officiating. 

I am willing to admit that I'm not the target audience for this book. I saw a few Lancers games in person, including the famous contest that the teams allegedly at least talked about fixing the score to ensure that both teams would qualify for the playoffs. Mostly, though, I wanted to learn a little about some of the Rochester names who turned up in Buffalo in the Major Indoor Soccer League. I have to admit I skimmed through good-sized sections of the game stories presented here within the 454 (!) pages.

But I can appreciate the effort that went into "Alive and Kicking." It's a self-published book without any frills - just pure information. So if you followed Rochester soccer during the 1960s and 1970s, this exercise in nostalgia ought to bring you several days' worth of delightful memories as you plow through it. 

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Review: Game (2022)

By Grant Hill

It didn't take long at all for basketball fans to fall in love with Grant Hill's game.

He arrived at Duke in the fall of 1990, adding his talents to a roster that already had such stars as Christian Laettner and Bobby Hurley. Hill was 6-foot-9, and he immediately showed why he was so extraordinary. It was once said about Grant's father, football player Calvin Hill, that he could have played any position on the field when he suited up for Yale University. His son was just like that too. Need someone to guard a point guard? Jump center? Rebound? Grant was your guy. 

And he all made it look so darn easy - which, of course, discounted the hours of work that made it all possible. 

No one, then, should be surprised that some of those same qualities are on display in Hill's autobiography, "Game." His writing is as smooth as a steal and a layup on the court. 

Hill's story for the most part is as smooth as his game, as he seemed destined for success. Calvin - a former NFL star who later worked with teams to help troubled playes - and wife Janet were not only great role models for their only child but for others as well. Janet picked up the nickname "The General" from Grant's friends over the years, as she was a special assistant to the Secretary of the Army for a period. 

Eventually Grant arrived at Duke, where he fit in with one of the great teams in college basketball. There were some strong personalities on those squads, and maybe it's not surprising that the people on the roster aren't particularly close years later. It might be giving Hill too much credit to say he was one of the "glue guys" that kept everyone together in that era. Then again, maybe it's not.

Then it was on to the pros for Hill, where there were unexpected bumps in the road. He was drafted third overall in 1994 by the Detroit Pistons, where he played at a high level on some mediocre teams. When his first chance at free agency arrived in 2000, Grant jumped to the Orlando Magic - where he immediately developed ankle problems. He spent more time on the sidelines than on the court in those seven years, and implies here that the medical treatment was less than appropriate. He came close to dying because of an infection in 2003. Even the storybook tales have some bumps in the road. Unless you followed the Magic in that era, you probably aren't aware of how difficult those years were for him.

Hill finally returned to health (relatively speaking) around the time he left Orlando in 2007, signing with Phoenix. He wasn't a star any more, but settled nicely into the job of role player for several years. Hill ended up playing 18 years in the NBA. Grant was back on the right track, and he has apparently stayed there. Hill married Tamia, a world-class singer from Canada, and they have had two children who we can only assume are going to be overachievers too. Grant eventually made the transition to basketball broadcasting, working the Final Four of the NCAA Tournament. And, oh by the way, Hill owns a share of the Atlanta Hawks. The Basketball Hall of Fame called him along the way.

That's a very interesting life, of course, especially for someone who hadn't reached 50 years old when he wrote it. But the best part is that the story is so well told. The story flows together quite seemlessly, and Hill is even willing to admit his (few) mistakes that he made along the way. 

The result is a biography that is just like listening to an intelligent, thoughtful over a series of long dinners - and what could be much better than that? "Game" is a top-flight effort that even non-basketball fans will appreciate.

Five stars

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Book Review: True (2022)

By Kostya Kennedy

It was particularly appropriate - and perhaps a little scary - to read this book shortly after the mass shooting in Buffalo that killed 10 African Americans.

As you might know, it was a typical Saturday afternoon, and people were shopping for the week's food as usual. Then a gunman, who had driven about 200 miles, opened fire. Our city may have had worse days, but none come to mind. 

The shooter was an 18-year-old supporter of white supremacy concepts. He thought that shooting random African Americans would somehow help his cause. In other words, the victims' only crime was to have dark skin.

That was Jackie Robinson's problem too. There hadn't been someone who looked like him playing major league baseball in the 20th century. When he arrived, some people chose not to play on his team, others on other teams offered vicious taunts at him, and fans sent hate mail to him and his team. 

Have we made much progress since 1947? It's easy to think about such matters while reading Kostya Kennedy's fine book on Robinson, "True."

Many of us already know Robinson's story. He was a superb all-around athlete who was picked by Branch Rickey of the Brooklyn Dodgers to break a color line in organized baseball that had been around for more than 50 years. Robinson signed shortly after the end of World War II, and after a year in minor league baseball spent a decade in the major leagues. Breaking that barrier was never easy, and it took a toll on him. But with the help of wife Rachel, who might be as classy a person as anyone in public life, Jackie survived and thrived. 

It's easy for a writer to fall in love with Robinson. His story is so obviously one about good versus evil, the long man fighting ridiculous odds to bring justice to his profession. Plenty of trees have come down to tell the story. I even contributed a few to the pile when I wrote a short biography designed for school children.

It's easy to wonder at first if we need another biography of Robinson. Kennedy, though, is a good enough writer to make it work. He takes an interesting approach by concentrating on four different years of Robinson's life. There's 1946, where Jackie got some baseball lessons playing in Montreal of the minor leagues. Fast forward to 1949, when Robinson was at the height of his baseball powers. Then there's 1956, when those powers were fading and he was headed toward retirement. Finally comes 1972, when Robinson is slowed by various ailments and dies in the 25th anniversary year of his debut. If you want to call these years the spring, summer, fall and winter of his baseball life, you wouldn't be wrong.

This is a tough assignment for Kennedy, and it might not have worked so well with another, less skilled writer. He has to tell the tale of a man's life, but forces himself to concentrate on four particular years while not completely overlooking the rest of his life. Luckily, Kennedy is good enough to pull it off. The author did a ton of research into the book. I usually become suspicious when a biography has some sentences about what the subject was thinking at a particular time, and there's some of that here. However, Kennedy's version of events comes across quite plausibly, and reads well. He may be a little less than objective about Jackie and Rachel along the way, but that's understandable.

The epilogue also is worth noting, because it brings us up to date on Robinson's influence. Pioneers in almost any field, particularly athletics, pick up the nickname of "The Jackie Robinson of (Blank)." The name still has relevance to us, 75 years after his first at-bat for the Dodgers.

Other biographies of Robinson might work better for those who want the complete story. But "True" works quite well for those who are new to the subject and want to learn what the fuss is about. Take it from a guy in Buffalo - it's still very relevant.

Five stars

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Review: The NBA in Black and White (2022)

By Ray Scott with Charley Rosen

It's time for a history lesson, and Ray Scott is your teacher. 

Your textbook is his autobiography, "The NBA in Black and White." 

Scott is remembered by semi-old-timers for playing 11 seasons of pro basketball in the NBA and ABA. But that's only part of the story, albeit the portion that will attract the attention of most readers. 

Scott was an outstanding high school player in the city of Philadelphia back in the 1950s. He couldn't stop one of his contemporaries in those days, Wilt Chamberlain, from winning championships. Then again, no one could. Ray moved on to college, and eventually turned up at the University of Portland on the West Coast. 

But that didn't last long, thanks to some academic issues, and Scott went back to Philadelphia to live. He turned up in the Eastern League, which was the closest thing that the NBA had to a formal minor league in those days. Even if Ray missed some time in college, he certainly got an education in the small gyms of Pennsylvania.

And here's the remarkable part of his career: he gained enough attention from pro scouts to be the No. 4 overall selection in the NBA Draft by the Detroit Pistons. Really, No. 4? Obviously, foreign players turn up high in the NBA draft now, but those guys usually have played for club teams in Europe. It's a different system of development there. Scott must have been really, really good to catch the eye of Earl Lloyd, a pioneer in African Americans in pro basketball and certainly one of the most interesting men to ever work in that business. (Check out some of his interviews on YouTube some day.)

Scott averaged double-digits in points in his first eight seasons in the NBA, and was around that number in rebounds most of the time as well. In other words, Ray was a consistent, good player.  He was dealt to the Baltimore Bullets in a complicated, three-way transaction in 1967. Then he jumped to Virginia of the ABA in 1970 for a couple of seasons. Knee problems eventually ended his career.

Then career number two started. Scott was hired as an assistant coach of the Pistons by Lloyd, and then replaced Lloyd as head coach. Ray is best remembered as the NBA's Coach of the Year in 1973-74, when the usually mediocre Pistons won 52 games. But Detroit couldn't stay at that level, and Scott was let go after a year and a half. He moved on to coach at Eastern Michigan University for a while, and then went into the insurance business (career number three) for a long, successful run. 

While Scott was around as the NBA took baby steps toward becoming the force we know today back in that era, his story is more about the fact that he was a black basketball player in that era. America was trying to figure out the issue of civil rights in those years. This is someone who as a 12-year-old, had take "safe" roads to drive any distance into the South. That changed, thanks in large part to the Interstate Highway System. Scott's method of travel improved a bit when he reached the pros. But even there, he had to figure out what restaurants and clubs would allow him to walk in the front door when he visited those places on road trips. 

Scott, who was assisted by Charley Rose in the book, tells an interesting story here about the time when the Pistons acquired Dave DeBusschere. The team simply gave him No. 22 upon reporting, since he had worn that number in other stops in his sports career. But that had been Scott's number, and he was surprised to discover one day that a uniform with No. 31 was in his locker. The best that could be said is that the Pistons were thoughtless in the matter, and Scott was left wondering what would have been done if the names in the story had been reversed. 

Scott's coaching career also is interesting in hindsight. He was the first African American to win the NBA's Coach of the Year Award. Right after that, the Pistons' ownership changed hands, and Scott's relationship with management changed. The front office forced the trade of Dave Bing, and soon after that assistant coach Herb Brown sounds like he tried to work behind the scenes to move up to the head coaching job. That eventually happened; OK, the team has an owner for a reason. But the man who was deemed the NBA's best coach at one point never got a second shot at an NBA job. It was a time when white coaches seemed to be recycled like plastic milk containers are now. 

The small consolation for some of the slights was that Scott did have some good times along the way. You'd expect him to establish bonds with players like Chamberlain and Bill Russell, since there was more that brought them together than separated them. But Scott also was on a first-name basis with people like Muhammad Ali and Aretha Franklin, and he has some good stories here. 

This is all told in a relatively breezy way, with plenty of tangents. The biggest catch is that there are good-sized stretches where Scott seems to be naming names without much point. There's a lot of material that feels like padding here, and that's a problem in a book that is on the short side to begin with. That makes this feel a bit on the slight side. A few typographical errors and factual mistakes also bothered me a bit.

"The NBA in Black and White" may not be an all-time keeper of a book, but it will hold your attention. It certainly will be of interest to those who want to learn about what basketball was like for the players in the 1960s - particularly those who were African American. It's easy to wonder how many people qualify for that. Whatever the number is, more people should get that education from Professor Scott.

Three stars

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