Well, Mr. Peary couldn't have picked a better title--this really is THE guide for the genuine film fanatic! It is a shame that the book is out-of-print. Anyone at all seriously addicted to film should read it (whether or not you always agree with Peary's opinions), so track down a copy any way you can.

I probably picked it up somewhere around 15 years ago, so my copy is really worn. And I'm still checking movies off as I see them. The main 'problem' is that there are, I think, 4200 films listed in the book, all told. I think I still have around 500 to go (the number of movies I've seen -- and this book lists only a fraction of them! -- qualifies me as a genuine fanatic). A large number of this 500 are titles that Peary admits are not 'musts': mostly low-budget horror and porno. Still, a good number are...simply impossible to find! They are not on video (not that I've found, and believe me I've looked) and are never shown on tv.

For example, who the hell knows where to locate 'Cuban Rebel Girls'? I've sent email to Turner Classic Movies, requesting such films as 'Storm Warning' and 'The Chapman Report' but, years later, they still haven't been shown. So, when you get near the end of Peary's list, good luck trying to complete it.

Maybe someone with resources should start a website for film fanatics and put all of these titles on it. Maybe there could be some sort of exchange system for people like myself (obviously I'm not alone here) who have been able to find movies on the list that others haven't.

Danny, are you reading? After all, you got us all into this!

But, seriously...dynamite book. Granted, it includes films that I can't believe I actually sat through but, on the other hand, there's a considerable number that I thoroughly enjoyed and never would have considered watching if this book hadn't introduced them to me.

One more thing: it's interesting that 1986 ends up being the cut-off point for this book, the year movies in general started causing me to hum 'Who Let The Dogs Out?' to myself on a regular basis. Although I'd be curious to see an updated version of this book -- one that would include reviews of such 'gems' as 'Showgirls', other 'must-sees', and those before 1986 that Peary somehow overlooked -- I think the book closes on a significant year.

I'm thrilled that so many people enjoy this book as much as I do. This book was a gift someone gave me as a teenager (that was over 10 years ago) and I still refer back to it at least once a week. In fact I have two copies.

I actually have a little story for fans. Probably about 10 years ago I decided to write a fan letter to Danny Peary. I basically told him how much I loved the book, and that I thought some of his reviews where actually more enjoyable than the movies themselves. I also begged him to write a sequel. To my surprise he wrote back to me! It was a very nice, hand-written letter thanking me and talking to me a little about the other books he's written.

This is a great film book and I would recommend it to everyone. The only complaint I have is that there really should be a Guide 2.

When you see multiple rave 5 star reviews for a book that has been out-of-print for ten years you know something is up. I picked this book up in the bargain bin section of a Waldenbooks many years ago and it eventually became the MOST tattered and abused film book in my library. Literally, pages were missing from the 'checklist' in the back, and the book had peeled away into three separate sections held together by a thread of a binding. Fortunately, I was able to pick up a mint condition copy from an online used book service last year and so I have a perfect copy that's just like new. I enjoy reading Pauline Kael, Stanley Kauffmann, Andrew Sarris, Roger Ebert, David Thomson...all the usual suspects but for sheer agreement, I tend to share Mr. Peary's opinions more often than possibly any other film writer.

An indispensible book!

Though I know some people dislike him as much as others love him, I have to say that, for myself personally, no film historian better captures the love and exhiliration that can be felt from watching a truly wonderful movie. In his writings, Danny Peary has always proven himself to be not only a student of films but also a fan. And yes, there is a huge difference! Peary came to prominence with his three Cult Film books. Cult Film Stars provides a great companion for those books and is a lot of fun on its own as well. Cult Film Stars is a thick compilation of entries, listing names from the expected (Pam Grier, Sonny Chiba, Klaus Kinski) to the unexpected (John Wayne, long though of so mainstream but Peary wonderfully shows how Wayne is almost as important as cult star as say Ed Wood's infamous friend Dudley Manlove). Along with listing each star's important films, Peary crams each entry full of interesting and often humorous facts and observations. This books works as a great introduction to films that many might otherwise have not heard of. I was still in high school when it first came out and just starting to discover how much I truly loved film. It was from this book that I first found out about such really cool (sorry if I sounded juvenile there but there's no better way to put it really) people like Pam Grier, Terrence Hill, and Toshiro Mifune. His entries on Kay Lenz, Meg Foster, and Karen Allen helped me to discover such unsung entertainments as Breezy, Ticket to Heaven, and The Wanderers respectively. A really great book for any film fanatic. However, keep in mind, the book was also published a decade ago. Some of the information will be dated but none the less interesting.

This book is basically a reference book of movie stars and directors who have made films that have spawned cult followings (some of the entries include Tim Curry, Divine, John Waters, Steve Reeves, Mamie Van Doren, Ed Wood, and Bela Lugosi). It includes a short biographical paragraph with little-known facts and has several illustrations - I found the book to be most useful because it also included a brief film history of the performer in his or her best roles. I would recommend buying the book if you are like me and get a kick out of b-movies and b-movie stars. It's really too bad it's out of print.

a must read if you are a real baseball fan, even if you only heard about most of these players from your father ...

This is the perfect baseball book for all seasons, but especially now with the World Series over, and spring training still months away. It also seems appropriate to me that this book is set during one of the "Golden Ages" of baseball between 1947 and 1964, a time when the only stats that mattered reflected exploits on the field, rather than tallies of bank accounts off the diamond, as we have heard so much about in the past few seasons.

So sit back, curl up in front of the fire, and dip in and out of this massive volume, which is edited and organized in a way that allows just such delights. Packed with stories about the game's greats, and not-so-greats, it offers wonderful insights into how the men who delighted in playing a boy's game actually felt, thought and acted, as told in their own words. There are baseball heroics here aplenty, but also some bitter truths and some all-too human behavior that just serves to make these men all the more real, and fascinating.

Editor and author Danny Peary obviously loves the game, and isn't tainted with the sort of "celebrity awe" that characterizes so much of today's sports' coverage, and its cynical flip-side. Of course, he does pay homage to the greats of this era, but he also rekindles a thousand memories for those of us old enough to remember some of the less celebrated, but nonetheless extraordinary characters who once inhabited the game. Hopefully, younger readers will also delight in meeting these men as well, who had wondrous names such as Vic Power, Minnie Minoso and Pumpsie Green. Need I say more?

Danny Perry's obvious love of film is infectious. His knowledge lost and beloved classics of the odd and forgotten will make you run out to th local video store in search of gem after gem. Even when you disagree with him, Perry supports his viewpoint in a fun, quickwitted style. My only complaint is that as 20 years has gone by since its intial publication where is CULT MOVIES 4?

Danny Peary, a film fanatic himself, in these series of three books (I'm only dealing with the first in this review) gleefully, critically and passionately celebrates what makes film going the sheer pleasure that it is. In a series of well written, insightful, often humourous and always celebratory essays, Peary explores many classic, weird and wonderful films that raise the pulses of fans.

Many film texts are dry treatises that absolutely drain the rollercoaster vicseral joy that a film can bring. Not so with Peary's excellent series. Peary manages to legitimately relate the true art that is cinema while at the same time exploring what makes so many great films live as a part of our very extistances.

I have read and re-read this book several times and each time, I have discovered a new insight into a favorite film or been directed to a new reference point. Peary is very careful to point to other film scholars and film titles that can enhance a film cutlists experience. In deconstructing each film, he also includes fascinating tidbits of information such as interviews with the film makers, insights into the creative process and backstory history.

Especially fine are his explorations on "It's a Wonderful Life", "King Kong", "Singin' in the Rain", "Rio Bravo" and "A Hard Day's Night". He successfully argues in all those cases that superb entertainment does make great art.

Do I agree with every one of Peary's opinions? Do I enjoy every single film included in these three books? Of course not! But Peary does give vallidation to all of us who could be classified as true film geeks. Since these books are as of this writing all out of print, I with the strongest terms possible urge you all to seek them out. You will not be dissapointed!

From a source that was never revealed I wound up with Mr. Peary's cult movies 2 book as a kid. I read it with great enthusiasm and wound up checking out quite a few movies because of it. The noteworthy ones were A Clockwork Orange and Taxi Driver. After years of looking in the back and seeing the list for the first Cult Movies book, I could stand it no longer. I finally ended up with the book and it is a true treat. Recommended to not read about the films that you have not seen. For those you have this serves as a background check, a detailed analysis and a clarifier. If for nothing else one can appreciate the plot synopsis, cast and credits, and production stills. For the fans of such "classics" as 2001, Forty Second Street, the Searchers, and many others, this is the book for you.

I bought this book when it first came out in the early 80s. I've referred to it so often that it now rests peacefully open on my desk at any given page. It provided me with a "birdwatcher's list" of unique films to seek out and enjoy.

Mr. Peary's approach to cult movies is respectful- this in contrast to other books of the "Bad Movie catalog" bent. At the end of his comments about "Plan 9 From Outer Space", for example, he came to the defense of Ed Wood. He pointed out that Mr. Wood managed to get his message, critical of American nuclear build-up, past the censors and into the theaters. Most other filmmakers at that time just went with the political flow.

Thanks to Mr. Peary's tutelage, I sought out such diverse films as "Aguirre, the Wrath of God" (artsy, passionate), "El Topo" (bizarre, egotistical), "42nd Street" (musical... not my style, but I enjoyed it), "Kiss Me, Deadly" (pure noir), and "Behind the Green Door ('nuff said). If you want to put some excitement in your experience of cinema, this book is a great way to begin.

This book will invite the obvious comparisons to "The Glory of Their Times". That book was a collection of memories of men long since gone about a time in Baseball even longer gone. There was a reverence apparent in the recollections of those men that conveyed an image of a game uncorrupted by modern outside distractions. Of course, the iron rule of the owners and the "whites only" standard are just two contradictions to that image. However, there was a poetry to "The Glory of Their Times" that stays with you and clouds away those inconsistencies.

"We Played the Game" concerns a more recent time with the recollections of retired players, many of whom are still with us. It has the first-person history that "Glory" has but they apply to events that many people still recall. Where "The Glory of Their Times" is poetic, "We Played the Game" is active and interactive. It follows each season in each league through the eyes of at least one player on that team. There were 65 retired players who contributed their recollections. Due to the different tenures, military service, and trades, there are some teams in some years without a first-hand perspective. However, there are very few such omissions. The greatness of this is how the reader comes to taste the whole season in each year and in each league. Not just from the point of view of who won but also from the point of view of who lost. There's a lot of history in this book and it reads very well. Take one season at a time and enjoy a more vivid picture of the past than any newsreel would ever show you.

Reviewer Brislen has done a fine job of highlighting the virtues of this baseball compendium, and I recommend that readers read his review first. I have only a few points to add. Because the number of contributers is limited (65) and unevenly spread across the 17 year period, some teams and years are better represented than others. So readers wishing to follow the course of a single team or concentrate on a particular focal year may be disappointed. As to the negative side of the game--when they occur, the dislikes, criticisms, or revelations by the players are usually aimed at management, not at each other. Thus, for better or worse, those readers looking for a gossipy Ball Four writ-large may also be disappointed. Among players, there are two other recurring topics in addition to salary concerns : (1) drinking, some teams and players (usually unspecified) had a history generally unmentioned on the sports pages, and (2) race relations, the narrative presents an inside look at another subject generally untouched by sports columns of the time.

The year 1964 may mark the end of the great Yankee teams and the end of the Golden Age as recounted in the book, but its political context is also relevant. It's one year after the Kennedy assassination and one year before the great Vietnam build-up, two epochal events that have come to define an end to our national innocence. They also usher in a generational change marked by a greater willingness to challenge authority and the rules. In baseball, this rebellious spirit leads to an overturning of the restrictive reserve clause that tied players to a single team, and more subtlely, to an undermining of the working class ethic that so many fans found endearing. The pluses and minuses of these two key elements comprise something of an underlying theme that weaves in and out of the narratives, and lends the book broader historical significance.

Still and all, what lifts this work above so many others is the opportunity editor Peary provides to so many marginal and obscure players to tell their story, ones which really do constitute the fabric of the game, and how basically decent and attached to baseball these men are. Coming away from their stories, the reader begins to understand why this game alone, with its very unfashionable appearance and rhythms, has worked its way into the soul of a nation.

Danny Peary has compiled an oral history that is simply as good an effort as has been done to date. The sixty-five players interviewed range from a few stars like Brooks Robinson, Del Ennis, Lew Burdette and Don Newcombe to solid career players such as Hank Sauer, Andy Seminick, Eddie Joost and Gene Woodling to guys just trying to hang on like Coot Veal, Ed Bouchee, Al Kozar and Bob Cain. The book covers the years 1947-1964 which many, including Peary have labeled the "golden era" of baseball. Most of the seminal changes of postwar baseball have been covered before of course in other works, but seldom in the words of the players themselves. At least not in the words of non-superstars. As you read the stories of these players you begin to realize the pressures they were all under in a time before free agency, long term contracts and huge endorsement money. Almost all of these guys, even the best, needed to have winter jobs to make ends meet. To understand the politics that could deny talented players opportunity in age of the reserve clause, read and reread the story of Al Kozar. In spite of the obvious disparity between today and then, one gets the feeling that ballplayers in that era seemed to enjoy the game more than their current counterparts. For all the inherent problems with the reserve clause, there seemed to be an innocence to the game that no longer exists. Any serious historian of baseball should not be without this book.

Harry Sheehy wrote an great book, here. It's easy to read, straight to the point, and provides valuable information and ideas for parents of children in sports. A read I would reccomend to many people.

I like this book so much. It has taught me lots of valuable information about sportsmanship. It has also taught me how to "take" a loss. This book really deserves a five-star rating. I would recommend it to anyone--young or old.

If you have ever seen a Harry Sheehy team play, and you know anything about basketball, you've seen a prime example of team play. Year in, year out, with a lot of talent or without, his teams get maximum results from their talent. Winning with talent is easy...winning as many games as possible, every year requires great coaching skill.
Harry has brought that same talent to writing. If you have a child or children who like sports, get this book...read it...and read it again until you REALLY understand what Harry is saying...then put his ideas into action...you and your kids will be much better for it.

I have never been a big fan of movies, or even television for that matter. When I was young, I didn't express it in quite so haughty a way, possibly because I was jealous and wished that I could watch the Banana Splits like everyone else. An actual movie required a car trip of ten minutes because the small town we lived in didn't have a theater; so it wasn't just the matter of begging the admission price. Books didn't really fulfill the entire need when I was young, either. I think most people need some sort of visual stimulation. Since TV and movies were unavailable, I turned to comics and "interactive" play (i.e., that running around with other kids in the neighborhood rather than being glued to the telly).

I can remember seeing movies as a kid, mainly because I can probably list them with 80% accuracy and completeness. The first one I remember was Love Story (which, as some would say, probably has something to do with my dislike for movies as well). My mother says that we saw Bambi earlier, but I just don't recall it. I recall a B-grade horror flick that I saw with my brother in the early 70s. I think it starred Doug McClure, and it was based around the Sargasso Sea (I still get the willies when thinking about some kind of trapdoor and a squid-like thing). Then there's Star Wars, which I remember seeing clips for on a local broadcast noon TV show, and which my brother and I had to see in the first week of screening based on that clip. In fact, I guess I went to movies with my brother a lot (mom was probably trying to get rid of us at the same time, as well as it just being easier logistically). Jaws II, Smokey and the Bandit (I remember the whole family went to that one), Cannonball Run, and Dirty Harry. We saw the popular stuff; my parents were not fans of movies or TV as well, but could be convinced every once and a while.

In high school, the town we moved to had a theater (actually a combination drive-in and walk-in), but because I had moved there "later" than most, I felt apart from the other kids in town, and so I never really "hung-out" at the movies like the majority of my classmates. What films I did see remained the more popular kind: E.T., Superman, Risky Business, the Star Wars sequels, the Star Trek movies. The only brief glimmer of hope in those days was the extraordinary effort I went to in order to see Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

So it wasn't until I went to college that I discovered the movies could be more than entertainment. But I never "fell" for movies like some people (reference Harlan Ellison's introduction to his collection of essays on media, Harlan Ellison's Watching). I was learning that books, which I had read up till now for their entertainment value also, could be more than simply entertainment as well, and that seemed much more exciting for me to explore.

You would think that after moving to L.A., I couldn't help but get more into movies. It is, of course, the movie capitol of the world. But L.A. is a city of facades. Just like the always balmy summer days they foist off as the truth in TV and movies hides the fact that L.A. has something like 90% smog-filled days, so is the movie culture hidden beneath the physical monument of the studios. I went to one "special" screening while in L.A., for the movie Soapdish. Nice performances by Kevin Kline and Sally Field, but nothing substantial.

Colorado? Even though I was back in a college town, movies weren't something I hungered for, or even looked forward to. But here I am, in Radville, Washington, and, frankly, we're bored stiff out here. You'd think that I'd get more reading done, but the absence of other culture makes reading feel monotonous. There is one bright shining light--Battelle's employees started a film club years back, and it's still going strong. This past year's most popular feature was Like Water for Chocolate, which the Film Club sold out in three different showings, and which prompted the local discount theater to book it for a couple of weeks. Through the Film Club I've seen some movies that I can tell will be favorites for times to come (The Palm Beach Story, Strictly Ballroom, and Roger and Me), as well as films that are helping to fill in the gaps of my video eduction (La Dolce Vita), and modern foreign-language films such as Raise the Red Lantern and Europa Europa.

What does all that have to do with Danny Peary's Alternate Oscars? It should explain why, after all these years, I'm suddenly interested in film, and, specifically, the history of the medium. Peary's book provides that history in excellent page-long essays, as well as catching me up on the critical classics of the medium. Perhaps not its intended use, but that's the thing with art--once it is finished, it rarely remains the artist's.

When I wrote my previous review for this book, I was writing from memory. I also was influenced by some opinions from other reviewers. But after reviewing the book, I have to say that it isn't that bad. It depends upon who is reading.

When they were originally founded in the late 1920's, the goal of the Academy Awards was to honor films and actors/actresses on the grounds of merit. This was difficult enough to achieve with a group of about a dozen voters, considering especially that they had power and influence. But overtime the academy grew to hundreds and even thousands of members. With such a large group of different people and personalities, it's safe to say that many have been influenced in their decisions by other reasons beside merit: Sentimentality, politics, consolation for a previous defeat and, most importantly, an obsession with prestige. In addition, silent movies were ignored during the transition to sound movies and certain film genres (Comedies and Westerns predominately), as well as independent and foreign films have been largely ignored over the years. If these factors did not exist in the minds of the academy voters, the results would be far different.

Author Danny Peary has realized this. As a result, he has gone back through Oscar history and rewritten the results, awarding Alternate Oscars to different winners, occasionally giving them to the actual academy choices. While some choices are the predictable ones ("Citizen Kane" or "Casablanca"), Peary mostly tries to surprise us as much as possible in his selections, providing reasons for his choices and analyses of the films. In addition, so has to honor the contributions of others, "Award Worthy Runners Up" are included for every year (Although there are sometimes none).

Another area the book works at is in the disagreement with the decisions. For example, I like the much-acclaimed union drama "On the Waterfront". But Mr. Peary took away it's 1954 Best Picture Oscar and awarded it to "Salt of the Earth", another film about labor workers. While I may disagree, I have not seen "Salt of the Earth" and am now intrigued at watching it. If I hadn't read this book, that might not have happened.

There are a few complaints with the book, though minor. A few of your favorite stars (Burt Lancaster for example) might not have received Alternate Oscars. But the author apologizes for this at the book's introduction. Also, no Best Picture selection is made for 1963 (The author citing a lack of great films). Finally, the selections only go up to 1991. Hopefully, a second edition is in the works. It would be fascinating to see what Peary would have to say. Or who knows? Maybe another critic could share their two cents on the Academy. How about several critics on the same book? But one thing is for certain: for as long as the Academy continues to blunder, there will always be a place for critics like Danny Peary. Thank you very much.

(I would also like to make a correction on my previous review. Mr. Peary's selection as 1976's Best Picture was Woody Allen's "The Front", not "The Accused".)

Is 1979's Manhattan artistically better than 2001's Joe Dirt? That's easy. Almost any film is artistically superior to the bottom-feeding Joe Dirt. But is Manhattan superior to the same year's Norma Rae? That's hard to decide. Both are credible candidates for awards from that year. I would select Norma Rae over Manhattan; on the other hand, Danny Peary prefers Manhattan. The point is that in such matters as artistic awards, the best that can be hoped for is credibility, not the finality of a Joe Dirt. Danny Peary's alternate Oscars have more credibility, in my view, than the Academy's.

I'm concluding this on the basis of his selections from the 1940's, 50's, and 60's, the era I'm most famitiar with. This is also an era of studio domination, when the five major studios and the two minors engineered selections based on the money side of the industry, not the artistic. For example, big budget, prestige films dominated the nominations of 1956, including the syrupy The Ten Commandments, the Broadway hit musical The King and I, the over-produced Giant, and the eventual winner, the highly mercandised and gimmicky Around the World in 80 Days. Except for James Dean in Giant, how many of those films are remembered today. Yet anyone who has seen Peary's picks--The Searchers, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and The Killing-- remembers them distinctly. Because of both theme and handling, these films register at a deeper, more lasting level than the passing spectacle of the former, a good indication of superior artistic merit.

This is not meant to extrapolate into a theory of merit nor a blanket dismissal of Academy selections. Some years the picks were more credible than others. But it does point up the reigning dichotomy of that era between A-movies on one hand and B-movies on the other, with B-films by dint of their inferior budget deemed unworthy of Award consideration. Yet in retrospect, the lowly B-budgeted Body Snatchers and the independently produced The Killing have proved a staying power far beyond the A-budgeted, highly merchandised nominees of that year. And Danny Peary is dead-on in trying to right this historical wrong. Other examples of grievous B-movie neglect could be cited.

My reasoning here applies only to the studio era when B-movies were produced. Nonetheless, the decline of that centralised system into today's more decentralised system doesn't mean that engineering the Awards has given way to artistic merit. I expect the mechanics are just as venal now as then, but because the industry has spread out, are harder to generalise about. Anyway, Peary's is a good, thought-provoking book that should provide plenty of grist for anyone interested in the movies. He rates in three categories: Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Actress, explaining his choices in each, and wisely avoiding the convoluted minefields of Best Director. He not only has an appreciation of film, but a feel for movies that affect the audience. After all, in retrospect, how could the Best Film Award of 1960 have gone to any movie other than the B-budgeted Psycho. Thanks Mr. Peary for paying that long overdue bill.

This is a movie lovers book that should have some appeal to connosieurs. From Mary Pickford to the Three Stooges to Marlon Brando to Richard Dreyfuss, the selection is large, with names familiar to every movie-goer, including some not so familiar. The authors are also a diverse lot (usually directors or film writers), having either a personal or professional familiarity with their subject. This is both a boon and a bane. A boon, because of the opportunity for anecdotes or insights which only intimate friends or professionals can provide; a bane, because the tone and content of too many articles is too respectful. Readers would be better served by a greater critical distance between author and subject, so that the flaws of a more rounded human being can emerge. Too bad more profiles don't reach the level of Alvah Bessie's unforgettable reminiscence of Bette Davis, which is just the right mixture of sugar and spice. Still the entertainment value is high, and no book that includes the likes of Claude Rains, Lee J. Cobb, or Louise Brooks, can afford to be overlooked.

I grew up listening to Tim McCarver, and have always liked him - that is, until recently, when he has become increasingly insufferable. This book, sadly, seems to continue the trend that has marred his sportscasting in the last few years. It does indeed contain a wealth of information about the game, and no one can deny that McCarver certainly knows his stuff, but the material is just not presented in a particularly useful way. McCarver seems more interested in showing off than in showing the reader, and while I did learn some things from reading this book, I often found it difficult to follow what he was talking about, and I frequently had to force myself to pay attention to keep from drifting off. Not something I want in my baseball books.

All of this is a big disappointment since a book about baseball for baseball fans is a mighty fine idea, and I don't know that there are a lot of guys out there as knowledgeable as McCarver. But I've watched baseball my entire life, and if I couldn't follow what he was talking about, I don't know who could.

If you really care about the game, you will no doubt find this book to be one of the best around to pick up the nitty-gritty of how baseball is played. Just the way McCarver intelligently covers the game on TV, his views especially on the strategic aspect of the game are well founded and explained very logically in this piece. If you were familiar with and liked his broadcasting style (especially with the Mets), you will be pleased to find all his knowledge brewed into a single book like this one. A downside, however, is that the book reads much like a boring textbook. Throughout the book, McCarver scatters anecdotes coming from his experience both as a player and as a TV analyst to illuminate his points, yet not to the extent that they make the book engaging for its historical interest (lots of stuff about Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, and other players from the late 60's through 70's). It might even get annoying for some readers when McCarver gets fancy and makes parallels by citing famous literary people and their work. Nevertheless, the baseball knowledge provided in this book will definitely raise the level of your capacity to enjoy baseball, and there lies its value. You wish to keep this book handy for occasional reference and as a company for watching baseball, but you will be somewhat disappointed if you hope for an exciting baseball reading.

I'm a huge baseball fan and I've read my share of baseball books. However, I've never read one that was this insightful and informative.

McCarver does an excellent job analyzing baseball strategy. I didn't agree with everything he said, but he made me think more about baseball strategy than I ever have.

As an aspiring broadcaster, I also appreciated his discussion on broadcasting. I was at a Mets game recently and I found myself keying in on the cameras and guessing which camera was in use at a given moment.

This book isn't for the newcomer trying to pick up the game. It is for the hardcore baseball fan, the fan that already thinks about the game on a higher level.