What to do if you're trying to make something as stupid and boring as the bible into something that a poor gullible child will accept? This is the problem faced by the authors, and they do a half-way decent job of presenting bible idiocy as something partly entertaining as a comic book. Should be useful for gullible, brainwashed parents attempting to produce gullible, brainwashed children. Start them with Santa, and if they believe that, move on to the bible in comic book form.

Great idea with uneven results. Some superb art in places, but not always as an appropriate counterpoint to the accompanying Scriptures. The parts that do succeed are worth the cover price alone.

This book was well received by me and my teenagers. There needs to be more artistic interpretations like this that tackle scripture. Not every translation done in this book is accurate to the Word of God but every piece is brilliant in its own right. Bravo! Encore!

The author has taken what would have been a fine essay and tried to turn it into a short book. Unfortunately he has chosen endless repetition of the same facts and opinions rather than increased deapth and insight to do so.

Billy Sunday was a remarkable man of his times, and Martin makes that very clear in this well-written and well-researched book. Whether you are coming to Sunday for the first time or are a seasoned-student, you will want to buy this book and read it, then read it again.
It is not a straightforward biography, but it provides much of the life of Sunday in the context of American culture and society from the Civil War to the Great Depression. A must read.

This was a very interesting book about a very interesting man. Interesting is about the nicest thing I can think to say about Billy Martin. Although his exploits have been legendary, the stuff in this book takes it too a new level. According to the author, Pete Golenbock, Martin has several women going in different cities at the same time. He was supporting an underage girl and her family on the West Coast and engaged on the East Coast. His life, as portrayed in this book, was more out of control than you suspected. Golenbeck caters to our interest in these areas and with life on the field, in the club house and in the owners office. You have to catch your breath periodically when reading about the life of Billy Martin.

On the negative side, the book turns into a defense of the person traveling with Martin the day of his fatal accident. You'll recall that Christmas Day story that told how his friend from Detroit was behind the wheel when it happened. You may recall later on (after consulting with his lawyer, no doubt) the driver suddenly became the passenger. Strangely, the lone eyewitness decided he was actually sitting elswhere in the vehicle after he had time to think about it. Along comes Golenbock to the rescue with photos, medical reports and diagrams showing how Billy was actually the driver. Sorry, I'm not that interested. Let the courts decide that one. The book should have been shorter than it was. I came away with the idea that intimate information was shared with the author in return for his public defense of Martin's passenger/chaffeur. It was a disjointed way to end the otherwise interesting book. But then, Martin's death was a disjointed way to end an otherwise interesting life.

Compard to David Faulkner's bio on Martin, this one by Golenbock has more insider details about Martin's life that make it the more interesting read. What does it in, unfortunately is Golenbock's peculiar analysis. Like so many people who like to ultimately elevate Billy the man higher than he deserves, more time is spent blaming George Steinbrenner for all of Billy's problems off the field. And it soon gets to the point where Golenbock actually performs what was once the impossible and makes you think he's too harsh on Steinbrenner. The bottom line is that Billy Martin, unlike his friend Mickey Mantle, never came to terms with what drinking and carousing could do to his life and for that, he had only himself to blame for not checking into the Betty Ford Clinic like Mantle did. Billy kept drinking not because of George Steinbrenner, but because of who he was, and that was a person with no morals whatsoever.

Without generating undeserved sympathy for the man, this book documents the sad life of Billy Martin, the extent to which his troubles were self-inflicted, and his tortured relationship with George Steinbrenner. The insecurities of both of these men feed on each other's, with each convinced that the other is out to upstage and destroy him, and each ultimately proving the other right, time after time. The years have provided an interesting postscript, however. Just as Martin's early death seemed almost inevitable because of his inability to confront and defeat his demons, author Golenbock ends the book with a forecast of inevitable doom for Steinbrenner, predicting with certainty that his many shortcomings will stop the Yankees from ever again achieving respectability. Golenbock was wrong, of course. Steinbrenner's late 90s Yankees are among baseball's all-time great teams, guided by a superb manager with no apparent interference from above. Perhaps Steinbrenner did in fact learn something from Martin's sad demise.