SWING AND A HIT

The former MLB star and current TV commentator delivers a serviceable homily/memoir.

Readers will quickly learn two of O’Neill’s tightly held convictions. One is that Pete Rose, his erstwhile teammate and coach on the Cincinnati roster, belongs in Cooperstown. “I know someone permanently banned from baseball can’t be inducted into the Hall [of Fame],” he writes. “But I think Pete deserves to be in the Hall for setting the all-time record of 4,256 hits while playing the game with unbridled passion and joy.” The other is that the recent penchant of ball players for going for the big hits is misguided, if understandable. “They are chasing home runs,” he writes, “and I can’t blame them for doing that because, in essence, they’re also chasing the largest paycheck.” O’Neill takes undisguised pride in a batting style that delivered powerful base hits and line drives, taking the ball as it came down the middle of the plate and smacking it from a level plane that slightly elevated when bat connected with ball. That style drove Lou Piniella, who succeeded Rose, bonkers: “Lou wanted me to stay anchored on my back leg, use a weight shift to turn on pitches and elevate them, and knock them out of the ballpark.” In the end, O’Neill was traded to the Yankees just in time for their string of championships in the 1990s, eventually shifting his batting style just a little. In these pages, written with the assistance of veteran sportswriter Curry, O’Neill always returns to his pet cause: Chasing homers is well and good, “but they will also produce their share of infield pop-ups, harmless fly balls, and swings and misses. And here’s my two cents: Not everyone is or should be that kind of hitter.” It’s an argument repeated perhaps one too many times, though the author has a point.

Hardcore fans—and would-be grand slammers—might enjoy O’Neill’s book, but it doesn’t pack much punch.