I love Kadir Nelson as an artist, and in this book the man proves he's got some writing talent as well.
This is a non-fiction account of the Negro Baseball Leagues, and black baseball players from the 1800s on.
You know how some topics can be mildly boring when you first consider them, but when someone who is super passionate pulls up a chair and talks to you, it's impossible not to develop your own interest and appreciation. Okay. That's how this book was for me. It's not as if I have zero interest in black baseball history, but Nelson is so enthralled by his subject and so loving in his writing and art that it's impossible not to get swept up in the story and carried along by the husky, fierce energy. They loved the game. They were ballplayers. And theirs is a rich and complex story. They were privileged, relative to many black folks of their time, but they were victims of a racist country that wouldn't let them play and get paid with their white peers.
The text is told with a collective voice, with lots of "we" and "our" pronouns, as if one of the ballplayers is telling the story. It was a little awkward, this point of view, but I liked it a lot better than a third person, dry, "objective" voice. I imagined sitting on a porch, next to the rocking chair of one of these players now in his nineties, as he slowly told me this amazing swath of American history. My dad is a sports fan and history buff and it was because of him that Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson were not completely unfamiliar names to me. Today, at Sunday dinner, I'm going to loan him my just-finished library copy of this fine book.