Sweet merciful crap, I forgot to actually review The Baseball Codes after reading it. Even though my original review inspired the author (Jason Turbow) to proclaim that surface appreciation is still appreciation, I wanted to be able to post a review proper.
A few nights ago I wrapped up a joyous read of one of the Top-Ten Biographies (even though the life-stories are simply roads that connect brilliant beer trivia and facts), Drinking with George by George Wendt (get it, read it, thank me later), and then earlier today I turned the last page on David Smay’s Swordfishtrombones (part of the 33-1/3 series, this one an examination of one of Tom Waits five or six utter and undeniable masterpieces), and it was then that I realised I forgot to sit down and review The Baseball Codes.
This actual review, however, has a lot to live up to. Here’s a sample of some of the email praise I received for reviewing a book I hadn’t even read yet:
“Hahahahah, wonderful review – I wish everyone wrote book reviews according to the Kevvy Method.” – Sam P.
“Good stuff Kevin! I had to read The Chrysalids in grade 6. It was effing awful, I hated it.” – Sarah K.
“Awesome article, made me LOL. ISBN humour? priceless.” – Sarah S.
“Hahaha… soon Oprah will have you on her talk show!!!” – Matt E.
“Ha! You are the groom to Jason Turbow who is your bride. I must say that Jason Turbow sounds like a wrestler’s name….that is one thing that I think your review overlooked.” – Tod(d) L.
“Nice.” – Rob P.
“Kevin, Kevin…” – Leslie M.
That’s a tough act to follow, so hold on to your butts as I take you down the jet-ski ride up a waterfall that is my actual review of The Baseball Codes:
It’s awesome. For serious. Buy it.