The 1978 Crenshaw High School men's baseball team was possibly the best high school baseball team ever. Crenshaw High is in South Central Los Angeles, the crossroads of some of the most violent gang activity and the requisit poverty in the U.S. Three of the players went on to play in the majors; a half dozen others played in the minors. Many of them--including Daryl Strawberry, who could have been one of baeball's greatest hitters--spent many years in prison, drug rehabilitation, and on other fringes. Very few of them became successful, if success is defined as having a stable career and family. Sokolove does a remarkable job discovering researching some very dark corners where most of these men wound up. He does so humanely, and presents the case very well that in spite of the overabundance of athletic talent these young men had, escaping a place like South Central means stepping up to the plate with two strikes against yo. ( )

Darryl Strawberry’s name is on the cover, but he is a minor character (albeit an overwhelming presence) in this book. Sokolove follows the model of The Boys of Summer telling the story of the Crenshaw High School boys baseball team of 1979, considered to be the best of all time. Sokolove summarizes the season and the great promise the boys showed in an often hopeless inner-city life. After graduation, Sokolove tracks the careers of several of the Crenshaw alums to the highs and lows of Straw and Chris Brown in the majors, to others who fizzled in the minors, and still more who never got a chance in the pros. Finally, Sokolove catches up with each of the players today some living in the depths of drug abuse and poverty, others molding contented lives in their community, all of them strongly identified with their Crenshaw family and their love of baseball.

“All the Boys of Crenshaw had missed out on certain things in their childhoods. Darryl had seen people around him struggle, but he had never seen anyone strive. In many cases, there wasn’t much to strive for, no apparent payoff at the other end.

That is part of the legacy of his youth that Darryl carried into his baseball career: Given a little success, he got comfortable very quickly.

A real superstar is mean in a particular way. He is Michael Jordan or Cal Ripken, greedy for records and history. Armored and self-contained, his inner core is a hard knot of physical talent and fierce will. Nothing penetrates that core, and anybody or anything that gets too close is out of his life.

Darryl had none of that. Not the inner core or the greed, and especially not the armor. Sometimes he was too nice. Always, he was too sensitive.” (p. 143)

“Let it be said, just for a moment, that Darryl delivered. He truly was epic, larger than life and achingly human. So much so that sometimes you wanted to avert your eyes.” (p. 218)

“’Baseball wanted Darryl more than Darryl wanted baseball. That was the problem right there.’” – teammate Marvin McWhorter (p. 240) ( )