Last Book of 2010 - Appropriately "The Last Boy" by Jane Leavy - A-

I know I know, you guys just can't wait for my second annual "Top 5 Books Read in 2010" entry.  I know you've been checking back daily, anxiously awaiting the post.  It is coming this week.  Truth is, I haven't picked all five, yet.  I know one for certain, and 2010 was generally a light year for me so culling through and picking five shouldn't be a chore.

Before we get there, however, let's review the last book I read in 2010.  I cheated just a bit.  I finished The Last Boy by Jane Leavy on 1/1/11, but I'm counting it as a 2010 book because I read 95% of it in 2010.  Since I make the rules, the ruling stands.

I greatly enjoyed Leavy's book from 2002, "Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy."  I didn't initially make the connection that she had written both books (it was EIGHT years ago) and didn't pick up "The Last Boy" because of Leavy but rather because of her subject.

Mickey Mantle's career spanned the generation that immediately precedes my generation.  His career ended just as my hometown "Big Red Machine" started revving up.  I never saw Mantle play, but he is one of the more revered players in baseball history, a veritable Greek god of baseball.

I mention Greece because the classic tragedies had nothing on Mantle.  His biography reads like a Greek tragedy.  From a difficult upbringing to devastating injuries which sapped his strength and speed to his (losing) battle with alcoholism to his interpersonal relationships--Mantle was most definitely a tragic figure.  You can add "self fulfilling prophecies" to his tragic legacy as he assumed the bad health that plagued him (and many in his family).

The only characteristic that many shared in Greek tragedy which Mantle didn't have was hubris.  No, hubris was reserved for DiMaggio.  Leavy wisely leaves (Like that?  Leaves?  Leavy?  I got a million of 'em. . .) DiMaggio largely out of her book, only including him where necessary to advance Mantle's story (and to take some deserved cheap shots at DiMaggio).

Mantle is an all-time great.  Of course, the reader is left with the question of what otherworldly goals he may have attained had Mantle had the benefit of just "decent" (not necessarily "good") health for any large part of his career.

Leavy writes from a familiar place.  She obviously idolized Mantle in the late 1950s and 1960s.  She just turned 60.  She was born in Mantle's rookie year and was 16 when Mantle retired.  Likely, she idolized Mantle like I idolized those players from "The Big Red Machine."  It's never the same as when you were a kid.  The players were bigger than life then.  Flawless.  I don't know that we can ever recapture that innocence about our heroes in today's internet-based world.

Leavy's obvious love for Mantle, the player, makes this endeavor all the more difficult for her.  She writes about Mantle's career, yes, but she focuses on what was unspoken during his career and what followed his playing days.  The womanizing.  The alcoholism.  The horrible family relationships.  All of the flaws of her hero.

I picked up this book because I didn't "get" Mantle.  Again, his career preceded my baseball fantacism.  Leavy delivered big-time.  I "get" him and what he meant to those around him (good and bad) and to his multitude of fans.  I highly recommend this book for the baseball fan, particularly any baseball fan who grew up watching Mantle.

Live long, read and prosper.  We'll leave the lights on for you.