Description:
One of sports' more elegant chroniclers, Bill Barich admits from the start of this superb collection of journalism--most appeared first in The New Yorker--that "I still look to the sporting life for escape and maybe even transcendence, if that isn't too grand an idea." In less skillfully versatile hands, it might be. In Barich's, it feels just right. The eight individual pieces Barich builds this Life upon swing in mood from deeply meditative to wryly comic. They traverse diverse terrain, inhaling nuance and detail: from the haughtiness of Ascot's steeplechase races to the whiff of liniment that permeates Santa Anita's backstretch, and from musty gyms filled with struggling fighters to secret trout streams. Even better, they shine a light into some unexplored corners of sporting and glow with the remarkable specifics they find. The light burns particularly bright in "Going to the Moon," a remarkable piece about the Red Devils, a team of Russian baseball players barnstorming across America. To supplement their very un-American salaries, their equipment manager hawks souvenirs like Russian army hats, lacquered boxes, nesting dolls, and Red Devils baseball cards in the stands, then splits the proceeds. New converts to the game, they're not very good; indeed, they get blown out, game after game, by American junior college squads. But athletes are still athletes and pride is still pride, and Barich captures that truism stunningly as he describes 22-year-old Andrei Tzelikovsky, who spits like a ballplayer and wishes "he had the uncanny grace of his batting hero, Ted Williams, whose book The Science of Hitting he'd read more than 20 times." Twenty times. It's the kind of lush--even transcendent--reportage readers expect from Barich. In The Sporting Life, he displays his ability to deliver it on several different playing fields. --Jeff Silverman
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