I love baseball books. In fact, I am in the process of writing one myself (plug alert) on the myth and reality of Babe Ruth’s Called Shot homer. Published by Lyons Press, it is due out next spring.

I hope my effort is worthy of Tom Hoffarth’s attention in 2014. The Los Angeles Daily News sports media columnist really loves baseball books. So much so, that he does an annual review of 30 baseball books in 30 days in April on his Farther off the Wall site.

It has become a rite of spring for me and others who still enjoy a good book about the grand old game. Hoffarth writes about books that you likely wouldn’t find otherwise. Such as: Baseball’s Last Great Scout: The Life of Hugh Alexander, by Dan Austin

Earlier this week, Hoffarth provided a 10-day update so you can see what you missed.

I asked Hoffarth to detail what he enjoys about baseball books and why he decided to engage in this exercise.

Here’s Hoffarth:

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It’s the fourth year I’ve attempted this, mostly the result of loving baseball literature, find it to be a pleasure rather than work, and realizing there were so many baseball-related books that seem to come out every spring that it wasn’t possible to give them all their proper due. I guess I’ve succeeded to the point where some publishers finally have me on the radar and send me review copies earlier so I can start this process in February, but for the most part — seriously — I go out and find the books in the store and buy them (don’t tell my wife).

I want the review to be something where a reader may not just be intrigued by the book, but if he goes out to buy it and it’s not out yet, that’s frustrating. I find that too often in my own experience. Every April, the newspapers come out with their roundup of baseball books, and half of them aren’t out until June.

It’s not a perfect system, because sometimes the book won’t come out until later in April, or early May, so I had to set a window — the book had to be new in 2013 (so I kind of eliminated anything that came out late in ’12) and available to buy.

I’m still a book guy. A print guy. I don’t have a nook or ereader. I want to touch the pages, feel at the photos. smell that new-book smell.

When I travel, my backpack usually has a couple of books jammed in there and I don’t care about the extra weight. One of my favorite times are to take a weekend, go to spring training in Arizona, and read three or four books on the trip.

I’m not a speed reader per say, but I do consume quickly and I think my intent is to make the Southern California reader mostly engaged in the content. I can’t get caught up in the latest book about the Yankees or Red Sox. At some point, they all seem the same to me.

But then, there are three books out related to the Detroit Tigers this year — a new biography on Hank Greenberg, a book written by Ty Cobb’s grandson, and another on Mark Fidrych.

There’s a new book on Lenny Dykstra may not seem to be SoCal centric, but it is because he lives out here, opened up a car wash, bought Gretzky’s home in Sherwood Country Club in Thousand Oaks and his son, Cutter, got drafted out of Westlake High. And he’s in jail here,currently. And in a review of the new book, “Nailed!” I try to take it from a personal perspective and give it my own spin before getting into the review. What drew me to the book? What could draw you as well? In this case, Dykstra once offered me a job to write for his magazine. I never followed through because of his reputation. Now it’s all there in book form to confirm my reservations.

So maybe it’s like the book “Cardboard Gods,” where these books replace the cards and make me reflect on something baseball-related in my life.

I’m at a point where I think I can get 30 quality books in the 30 days, and even leave a couple out of I can’t get to them in time. In the past, I’d have to fill some dates with books I thought were less-than B-plus quality, and then review it that way, either because the book was popular, topical or related to a Southern California figure. A book about Don Mattingly, for example, came out a couple of years ago just as he was stepping in fulltime as the Dodgers manager. I didn’t enjoy it at all and wrote that, as a warning for those who might just pick it up without thinking twice.

Every spring, I look forward to a new Jackie Robinson book, because inevitably, one is timed with the April 15 celebration. This year isn’t any different and I’m so enthralled with “Behind the Plate” by Mike Long, who did “First Class Citizenship” recently. Long collected newspaper columns that Robinson wrote in the late ’50s and early ’60s and categorized them. You find how relevant they are today as they were 50 years ago — such as Robinson warning the Republican party that they were too white and exclusive and it would come back to burn them some day. Surprise! And Robinson was once compelled to campaign for Nixon in the 1960 presidential election, but not in ’68.

I’m also huge on history-related books, but only if they’re written well, not like a college dissertation but with a writer’s flare to insert color and not just research. This year, another book by Robert Weintraub nails it with “The Victory Season.” The opposite is true with a bio on “Smoky Joe Wood.”

I also would love to give a shout-out to one of my biggest supporters, Ron Kaplan, who not only has a great blog ronkaplansbookshelf.com but also has a book himself out called “501 baseball books fans must read before they die.” I did a column Q/A with him before the series started and will leave a review of it for the final one this month.

As part of his 30 baseball books in 30 days package, Tom Hoffarth of the Los Angeles Daily News, has a write-up on the new book: Nailed! The Improbable Rise and Spectacular Fall of Lenny Dykstra.

First, though, Hoffarth writes how Dykstra once tried to recruit him for his magazine:

“I’ll pay you a dollar a word to write for my magazine,” he said about five years ago, after I’d finished having a discussion concerning the MLB draft status of his son, Cutter, about to graduate from Westlake High.

“Lenny, that’s ridiculous, no one gets paid like that,” I told him.

Dykstra gave me the name and number of the editor of “The Players Club,” a very high-end magazine he published that targeted athletes with money to burn.

Kinda like him.

As for the book, it is written by Christopher Franke, who Dykstra hired to edit his newsletter in 2007. Franke documents the whole bizarre tale, which wound up with the former baseball and financial star in jail.

Hoffarth writes:

This is no Mona Lisa. No smiling allowed. To repeat the litany of Dykstra transgressions here would take a few blog holes, and we’re not even up to stomaching any of that, really. As PhillyMag.com wrote in a headline about a review of the book: “Lenny Dykstra is Grosser, More Racist, More Self Destructive Than You Ever Thought.”

But in a book that, frankly, had a lot to be desired in how the way the pages are laid out and the typeface is presented in such small print, Frankie lays it all out there — disgust and all.

“There were plenty of red flags that would have sent many running for the hills, but there were equal reasons for me to believe success was right around the corner,” Frankie writes on page 160, explaining how Dykstra recruited him to the Players Club. “Plus, I had grown accustomed to the chaos.”

Can you hear the music?

It’s Masters week, which means that numbing theme will be rattling in your head. So be it.

The great thing about the Masters is that it always produces great stories. One of the best is chronicled in an excellent new book: Two Roads to Augusta.

Written by Ben Crenshaw and Carl Jackson, with assistance from Melanie Hauser, it details perhaps the most unique relationship in golf.

In 1976, players had to use Augusta National caddies during the Masters. A young Crenshaw hooked up with Jackson, who started looping at the club in 1958.

They formed a tight bond. Even when the Masters allowed players to use their own caddies, Crenshaw stuck with Jackson. Jackson was on the bag when Crenshaw won in 1984 and then again in 1995. His second Green Jacket was straight out of Hollywood, occurring the week his coach and mentor, Harvey Penick, died.

In a Q/A, Hauser reflects on that unique relationship and recalls that memorable Masters:

How did this book come about?

It was always intriguing how two men from such different backgrounds had such a feel and a passion — and incredible knowledge — for Augusta National. They learned it apart and together when, on a hunch, Augusta National members Jack Stephens and John Griffith decided they would make a good team. Now, 42 years, 2 Masters wins and a half dozen close calls later, it was time to tell their stories. Ben and I both went to UT and have known each other our entire professional careers and I have known Carl since 1984 and covered all their Masters. In addition,  I had collaborated with Ben on his autobiography — A Feel For The Game: To Brookline and Back — in 2000 and it was a natural.

For those with short memories, why was that tournament so memorable?

Oh my. It was an amazing magical week that was book-ended by two emotional tear-jerking moments. Frail as he was, Harvey Penick had given Ben a putting lesson the week before New Orleans. Harvey was failing and everyone always left wondering if it would be the last time they saw him. A week later, Ben and Julie were having dinner at Augusta National when Christy Kite, Tom’s wife, got a message to them the Harvey had died. Ben and Tom both flew to Austin and back the Wednesday of Masters week to attend the funeral and everyone wondered how Harvey’s death would affect them. Ben had come to Augusta, as he had so often, struggling with his game, but Carl saw something Monday afternoon and told him Tuesday on the range. That changed everything.

Ben had a different look in his eye after that, one his father and brother saw at Harvey’s funeral. The rest of the week? It was filled with Harvey bounces, incredible putts and an incredible focus. It was the best Ben ever struck the ball and he didn’t three-putt once on his way to a second green jacket. He collapsed, sobbing when the final putt fell and Carl steadied him. It’s become one of iconic photos from the majors. Ben felt Harvey guiding him all week and . . . well, you’ve have to read   the book to find out everything else.

What struck you about the relationship between Crenshaw and Jackson? What makes Jackson so unique?

The best way to put it is they are soul mates at Augusta. They both know that course better than just about anyone this side of Bobby Jones and it’s almost like it’s a part of them. It sounds strange, but when there is such passion when they talk about the course. There’s an amazing love there too. One day when we were working, I talked to each one separately and they both cried when they talked about what they meant to each other and what they had accomplished together. That says it all.

And Carl? He grew up in abject poverty, dropped out of school and always said he was going to get his diploma at Augusta National. When he started caddying full time there at 13, he already knew and sensed more than a lot of the older caddies. So many caddies just did the job to earn money they frittered away. Carl listened and learned from the legendary Pappy Stokes and really does know that course — every inch of it. He made it a career and put five children through college. He really does have a PhD in Augusta National.

During the process of doing the book, did Crenshaw and Jackson discover/learn things they didn’t know before?

They did. Both of them surprised each other. Heck, Ben surprised his manager Scotty Sayers and I on a couple of things. But if I told you . . . .

Will we ever see this kind of player/caddie dynamic play out again at Augusta?

I can’t imagine we ever will. Carl grew up on that course and you can’t compare that the knowledge of to a caddie who spends one week a year at Augusta. That’s not to say there aren’t some incredibly great caddies and partnerships out there — Tiger and Joe LaCava come to mind. What’s amazing is Tiger is still learning the course.  Joey won with Freddie Couples, but I think even he would say Carl knows that course better than anyone else in the caddie house. There just aren’t players and caddies who stay together for thirtysomething years anymore. And, honestly, I think Ben and Carl stayed a team because they were only together one week a year. But they were incredible weeks.

Anything else?

I just hope everyone enjoys reading behind the scenes of an incredible relationship and two special people. My first Masters was Ben’s first win and having seen them all . . . well, I feel blessed. I just hope I did their stories justice.

This is the review I wrote for the Chicago Tribune’s Printers Row books section.

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The storyline seems the same, only change the sport from football to basketball, and the states from Texas to Kentucky.

Keith O’Brien’s new book, Outside Shot, is the basketball version of Buzz Bissinger’s highly-acclaimed, Friday Night Lights. Much like Bissinger’s book on football in Texas, O’Brien spent a year in a small town in Kentucky, documenting the obsession and  at times, the over-exaggerated importance of the local high school basketball team. However, it remains to be seen if Billy Bob Thornton also will play the coach in the movie version of Outside Shot like he did for Friday Night Lights. And let’s not talk about a potential TV series.

Indeed, the comparisons are inevitable between the two books. In O’Brien’s book, there is a sense of “haven’t we heard this story before?” Bissinger’s book, published in 1990, sets a fairly high standard for this category. He also had better material to mine, especially with the star running back who saw his college and pro dreams get shattered with a devastating knee injury. O’Brien’s Outside Shot doesn’t have that level of pathos and emotional pulls.

Yet it’s been 23 years since Lights hit the shelves, and a contemporary account of the high school sports tale definitely merits attention.

O’Brien, a former Boston Globe reporter, tracked the Scott County basketball team for  the 2009-10 season. Located in rural Kentucky outside of Lexington, the economically-challenged town doesn’t have much besides basketball and bluegrass. O’Brien weaves in details of industries that have come and gone in the area.

O’Brien writes, “Those living here today will say, simply, that they live in the Bluegrass, as if it is of them, which in a way it is.”

With the famed Kentucky Wildcats, winners of eight NCAA titles,  just down the road, basketball has a firm hold on Scott County. The expectations always are high, thanks to coach Billy Hicks, who has led the school to two state championships.

O’Brien portrays Hicks as earnest and dedicated in prodding his team through the long grind of the season. To his credit, he doesn’t go to the extremes in the yelling department, much like other high school coaches who emulate Bobby Knight.  Hicks, though, does face charges of “recruiting” players to Scott County to help feed the pipeline. It goes to the extent how important winning is to the program.

O’Brien writes of the pressure on Hicks to succeed: “He was sinking, inching ever deeper into a world where child athletes called the shots and their parents demanded athletic greatness at seemingly any cost, while these fans, this county, longed for the innocence of a not-so-distant past.”

The players also felt the pressure. For them, the ultimate prize wasn’t a state championship, but rather a college scholarship. Dakotah Euton, regarded as the state’s top young prospect as a freshman, had to deal with disappointment as a senior when his talent level failed to match the unrealistic expectations. Ge’Lawn Guyn’s aching knees complicated his ability to show his worth to college coaches. Chad Jackson, the starting power forward, had to deal with an uncertain future in the wake of his father’s death at age 39 from abuse of crack cocaine.

Then there were the players who simply wanted to get precious minutes on the floor. O’Brien writes poignantly of Will Schu, whose intensity backfired on him when he broke his hand in a fit of anger.

Writes O’Brien: “The boy, with no father in his life and few defined plans for the future, sometimes wondered why he had worked so hard, for so long, to end up here: on the bench, watching a bunch of transfers play.”

O’Brien writes a compelling narrative. He makes the reader care about the players and their coach. He also does a nice job with his game accounts of Scott County’s up-and-down season. He creates a vivid picture of what it is like to be in those Kentucky gyms on cold winter nights.

Ultimately, though, O’Brien wasn’t rewarded with the last-second three-pointer to secure victory in the big game. There isn’t the edge-of-seat drama in Outside Shot.

Rather, O’Brien provides an interesting look at a place where high school basketball is taken very seriously, much like football in Friday Night Lights.

Outside Shot isn’t at the level of Friday Night Lights, considered one of the best sports books of all time. However, that shouldn’t be considered a putdown.

O’Brien’s book is more than worthy of standing on its own merits.

So much for the notion that people aren’t reading sports books. I can’t remember the last time when two sports titles were on the top 10 list for hardcover non-fiction.

Francona by Terry Francona and Dan Shaughnessy checks in at seven on the latest New York Times bestseller list. Francona may be gone in Boston, but fans in the Northeast still want to read about him.

Then at nine, there’s Long Shot by Mike Piazza and Lonnie Wheeler. While the book has been rapped because Piazza didn’t come clean about steroids, evidently Piazza still has plenty of appeal in the market.

All in all, some good news for the folks who put out sports books.

The Super Bowl is going to be a big day for Richard Dent. The MVP of Super Bowl XX in New Orleans will carry the Lombardi Trophy to the stage tonight for the big presentation.

The game on Jan. 20, 1986, capping off the Bears’ legendary season, was a defining moment for Dent. It eventually led to the defensive end’s induction into the Hall of Fame in 2011, an honor that was long overdue.

Dent now tells his entire story in a new book, Blood, Sweat & Bears: Putting a Dent in the Game I Love.

Here’s a Q/A I did with Fred Mitchell, the long-time Chicago Tribune columnist, who is the co-author of the book.

What about Dent’s career stands out for you?

The most remarkable aspect of Richard’s career, from my perspective, was that he quickly integrated himself into the Bears’ defense as an 8th-round draft pick out of tiny Tennessee State in 1983. They don’t even have eight rounds in the NFL draft anymore. Furthermore, Dent amassed 34 1/2 sacks in a two-year stretch (1984-85) en route to becoming the franchise’s all-time leader in sacks (124.5 with the Bears and 137.5 for entire NFL career) and Super Bowl XX MVP.

How did he feel about being perhaps overlooked for so long?

Richard retains some bitterness about the Hall of Fame selection process after being a finalist six times. He feels there should be greater transparency as far as how members of the selection committee voted each year. He also would like former players added to the selection committee. Richard is forever grateful for his HOF selection, but repeatedly says “the numbers are the numbers,” which should have been good enough to get him inducted many years earlier.

Any surprising revelations in the book?

It was surprising and disheartening to learn that Richard and his longtime Bears coach, Mike Ditka, continue to feud after all of these years. Richard said Ditka has yet to congratulate him on his Hall of Fame induction in 2011. The sting remains for Richard that Ditka often referred to him as “Robert” when speaking to the media in a deliberate effort to tweak him. Hopefully the two will reconcile at some point and share the good vibes of being fellow Hall of Famers and a Super Bowl champ.

What was it like working with Richard? What did you learn from him?

Richard has an inspiring story to tell about overcoming the odds of growing up in a modest-at-best home setting in rural Atlanta with seven brothers- a few of whom spent time in jail. I appreciated Richard’s candor in talking about the distrust he felt from the Bears organization, which accused him of selling and using cocaine and ordered him to be tested for drugs early in his career. His legal appeal in 1988 proved to be a landmark case in the NFL and it forced the league to come up with a more comprehensive testing program.

Rick Telander lives nearby. So instead of dropping the book and video in the mail, he decided to run them over to the house.

We chatted for a few minutes about various things. Then he pointed at his knees.

“Hey look,” Telander said. “First time my legs have been straight in 40 years.”

Telander recently had both knees replaced. His news badges from years of athletic pounding had their roots back to his football days.

The Chicago Sun-Times columnist wrote about his high school, college and very brief pro career in Like a Rose. The book, initially published in 2004, was re-released with a new introduction this fall to coincide with NFL Films doing the video version of Telander’s story.

Here’s the link. If you watch the video, you’ll notice Telander’s legs aren’t straight. It was done pre-operation.

The book and NFL Film piece recount Telander’s days as a high school quarterback in Peoria, Ill.; an All-Big Ten defensive back for Northwestern; and his experience at the Kansas City Chiefs training camp in 1971. It lasted only a few weeks as coach Hank Stram helped send Telander into sportswriting.

A quick and interesting read at 160 pages, Telander provides a unique look to a game that consumes its players and fans. He writes in his opening paragraph:

Football is the oddest, meanest, sweetest game. It is a conflict at its roots and at its surface. It pulls a sane person in two directions–anger and joy. At times, players literally fight one another, and at times they are bound together in a dance. Baseball, it has been said, is America’s pastime; football is its passion. Give me passion.

There’s plenty of passion in the book, as Telander tells his story. It includes passages about him as a father being conflicted over whether his son should play the game he loves.

As America dives into football mania this week, Telander’s book is a terrific reminder that there is much more to the game than the players who will be on the field next Sunday.

Few people around are more qualified to write about the history of the Bulls than Kent McDill.

McDill was the only beat writer to cover all six of the Bulls NBA titles, handling the duties for the Daily Herald from 1988-99. He had backstage access to one of the greatest and wildest shows in sports history.

McDill writes about Jordan, Pippen, Rodman, Jackson and more in a new book 100 Things Bulls Fans Should Know & Do Before They Die (published by Triumph).

Here’s my Q/A.

Was it tempting just to do this book on 100 things about Michael Jordan?

I wanted to avoid writing a Michael Jordan book. I wanted to promote the idea that the Chicago Bulls existed before Jordan, and have existed after Jordan. That being said, I also wanted to make sure Jordan and the championship seasons were presented in a new, complete way without repeating too many stories we all know. The Bulls actually have a rich history and I think the book presents all of it.

When people ask you what it was like to cover the Bulls during the championship years, what do you tell them?

The common response is that it was like covering the Beatles, but when you are in the middle of it all, the day-to-day requirements made it a grind. That being said, it was a pleasure covering a story daily that you knew would be read by thousands. As a reporter, knowing you have an active audience waiting breathlessly for your story makes it easy to get up in the morning. There was an element of celebrity involved in being one of the reporters on the inside of a story that big.

What was Jordan like to deal with on a daily basis? How much access did you get?

Michael Jordan was the nicest, most accessible incredibly wealthy and famous person you could imagine, at least through the 1993 season. Once he went through the gambling controversy and his father died, he became more guarded with his time. But originally he was having a good time and letting most of the people on the inside enjoy the ride with him. My relationship with him was extremely pleasant, in part because I demanded very little of him. Unlike many other reporters who hounded him, or those who were looking for dirt, I covered him (as much as possible) as just another member of the team. I went out of my way to stay out of his way, and when I did need him for something, he was willing to participate because I was not hanging on hiim all the time. Access changed after his first retirement; things got tight, not just with the Bulls but with the entire league. I think someone could probably mark the day when professional sports teams became  ultra-protective and guarded with everything involving their teams.