My love of baseball is strong enough that I can endure – and even enjoy – books. This off-season I ploughed through delights like As They See ‘Em and You Gotta Have Wa, and I’m not going to lie to you, it barely felt like I was actually reading. Even my current casual reader, a book on Cubs history cleverly titled The Cubs, hasn’t once reminded me of being forced to read The Chrysalids in Mr. Randall’s monotonous Grade 10 English class.
I picked up a copy of The Baseball Codes today, and though I’d love to have a review up while the book is new and (presumably) topical, I simply don’t read that fast. I think I type faster than I read, and I type with my index fingers only.
Timing is everything, however, when it comes to baseball blogging (I hear Chalk loves that word), so I’m not going to let something as trivial as having actually read the book stand in the way of a solid review. Hell, I bought the damn book, what else do you want?
Let’s start this review off with a bang. Jesus H. Christ on a crutch, check out this cover:
