When I came across this book at my local Barnes and Noble bookstore, I had the impression that this would be a collection of fairly straightforward articles in the sports journalism genre. Instead, I was delighted to find that the writer, Ira Berkow, tends to express more than the topic at hand. Often, his knowledge of and experience with baseball in general and the New York Mets in particular seeps into his prose, and the result is that he is able to address both specific details as well as larger truths.

In Summers at Shea: Tom Seaver Loses His Overcoat and Other Mets Stories, Berkow has arranged a variety of his articles composed over a career that aligned with nearly the Mets' full run at Shea Stadium. As he establishes in the introduction, this is "not an encyclopedic chronicle of events" (xvi), and this goes a long way toward the success of the book. From one chapter to the next, the reader is whisked from one end of the Mets' history to the other along a theme that is established and developed as the sequence of articles is traversed.

Oftentimes, Berkow is not only recounting a given game or moment but also putting forth a thesis whether it is simply implied or quite direct, as in "Moron of the Month," his 1991 piece about the relationship between beer advertising and baseball--and exploring baseball's responsibility for educating its fans.

Among my favorite articles, and ones I would recommend flipping to first, are the following:
- "Fickle Fans at Shea Give Piazza a Break," offering an interesting glimpse at Mike Piazza circa 1998 before he became a Metropolitan legend;
- "Willie Mays at Twilight," an article from 1973 that humanized Mays for me in a way that his statistics have not;
- "Warren Spahn and Casey, Before and After," wherein a story is woven based on the interactions of these two baseball greats ("Casey" being, of course, Casey Stengel);
- "Farewell, Sweet Pitcher," a 1987 feature on the occasion of Tom Seaver's retirement, and "Seaver Derails the Big Train," a 1975 article, each of which served to enlighten me a bit further as to Seaver's legend in Mets history;
- "Mickey Mantle and Keith Hernandez, Two No. 7s," a 1986 text that delves into the finer points of balancing hero worship with a special focus on Hernandez's insight; and
- "Jackie Robinson and Ed Charles, Among Others," a 1972 article that concisely delves into elements of Robinson's later life and legacy beyond the typical biographical notes with which I imagine most are familiar.

I would be remiss if I didn't note my interest in articles focused on David Wright and Mike Pelfrey, each very early in their respective careers. Also, "Sweeping Wave of Metmania Hardly Ripples Walden Pond" offered a fun run through a mock interview with American transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau in which each question is "answered" by Thoreau through quotations from his writings. All in all, Berkow's book stands as a testament to the wide range of Mets-related work he produced during his career and offers a journalistic reference well-suited to fans of the Mets, or baseball in general.

THE CALL ON THE FIELD: This finely curated collection of articles by Ira Berkow is a solid four TARDISes out of five. In this case, history doesn't change as a result of your experiences, but rather your understanding of baseball history -- if you're anything like me -- will be altered and expanded in ways both subtle and wonderful. (I realize I'm mixing my fandoms here, so suffice it to say that a TARDIS is a time machine from Doctor Who.)

I just began reading Philip Roth's The Great American Novel.  Whether I will consider it the "great American novel" remains to be seen, though somehow I doubt that any text titled as such will actually succeed in earning the distinction.  It would be like a friend asking you: have you heard the "greatest band in the world"?  I would answer: why yes, I've heard recordings and seen live performances by the Beach Boys, Barenaked Ladies, etc. (given my mood on that day).  However, this friend was referring to the band with the name The Greatest Band in the World. I don't imagine I would be running out to pick up an album by this group (or, to show my age less, running in to my computer/smartphone to download their tracks.

You can earn the distinction or make it your name, but I wouldn't expect the two to overlap.

However, I have greatly enjoyed and appreciated the Roth novels I've read in the past, so I am going to give this one a try.  Having only read the first few pages, it is already clear that he has conducted serious research into baseball during the preparation for this novel and that he is experimenting with the narrative voice, which has initially thrown me a bit but promises to be rewarding if I persevere.  

As I read, I'm wondering: 

1. What criteria would make for the greatest novel written by an American and/or about America?
2. How does baseball impact the meaning of -- and my appreciation for -- this novel?
3. Has baseball's popularity changed between 1973 and 2017?  (In other words, could this novel be read today with more, less, or about as much interest/relevance as it was back then?)

That's all for now: very much introductory.  I'll report again once I'm further into the novel.