One of baseball's greats plays the role of ""angel with the backward look"" to lead middle-age and older fans down an old, nostalgic road that stretches back more than 40 years. In an intensely personal narrative he covers his career from the Fordham campus, where he was a two-sport hotshot, to the day before yesterday. He was a ""pheenom"" from the first, making the almost impossible jump from campus to majors without detour. Despite the fact that he didn't then know how to hold a bat, he hit, infielded and ran himself into the Hall of Fame as player for the N.Y. Giants and St. Louis Cardinals. Frish then recalls the lively days when he managed- if that is not too strong a word- the Gashouse Gang, as the Cards were then known. His efforts to cope with the dizziness and daffiness of the pitching Dean brothers must have cost him a lot of hair, but makes for lively reading. His later chores, such as managing the Pirates, coaching and broadcasting, are largely anti-climactic. The Flash loved every minute of it (the alternative would have been his father's linen business), but views today's game as a retired drunkard regards whiskey. ""The old fire and snap has gone out of baseball"", he grumps. The syntax, most of it better than this, is provided by Mr. Stockton, a sportswriter feller. This is sound fare for senior enthusiasts.