The Baseball Bookshelf

I’m reluctant to do full-scale reviews of baseball books because I believe there is an inherent conflict of interest at work here. If I were to thoroughly pan a book, how could readers trust my opinion, given that I am essentially a rival author? Couldn’t a negative review be interpreted by some as a way to unfairly put down another writer while drawing more attention to myself as a supposedly more accomplished author?

Having said that, I feel that no such conflict exists in giving positive recommendations on books. That’s what I’d like to do in the case of the new tome, Stepping Up, which details the life and times of Curt Flood and his late-career battle against baseball’s reserve clause. First-time author Alex Belth, who’s best known as the lead writer for the internet’s Bronx Banter, has done a commendable job of recounting Flood’s life, while placing some of his struggles in the proper racial perspective of the 1950s, sixties, and seventies. Belth tells stories well, mixing in just enough baseball with readable anecdotes from Flood’s tumultuous life, which included bouts with alcohol and recurring financial problems. The book also sheds some clarifying light on what can be complicated issues—baseball’s reserve clause and the sport’s anti-trust exemption. In both cases, Alex explains the legalese in layman’s term, making the reading relatively quick and easy.

As with any good biography, the book sheds light on some of the lesser known aspects of Flood’s career, including his early major league days with the Reds and his final days with the Senators. Other than some occasionally faulty copy editing, my only real criticism of the book is that I wish it were longer, which is often a function of the editor and not the writer himself. And that can actually be a good tendency from editors and writers; after all, you always want to leave the audience wanting more.

I’d particularly recommend Stepping Up to younger fans who want to learn more about the economic and social climate involving players and owners in the 1960s. It was much different than today, with owners holding a stiff upper hand and most players left scraping for financial leftovers, as they were led to believe management’s cries of poverty. Readers will also glean some valuable information about the early years of Marvin Miller’s reign as head of the Players’ Association, and how he tried to provide guidance to Flood—without knowing exactly how his fight against baseball’s establishment would turn out.