The Last Real Season: A Hilarious Look Back at 1975 - When Major Leaguers Made Peanuts, the Umpires Wore Red, and Billy Martin Terrorized Ev

For anyone who has had the pleasure to read "Seasons In Hell", baseball can never really look the same. Told from a boozy, shambling perspective of a fly-on-the-wall beat writer for the Texas Rangers in their inaugural seasons, it exposes the players as less than serious competitors, and the managers as part strategist, part baby sitter, part comedian, and part cheap psycho-analyst. "The Last Real Season" begins with more lofty intentions, with a forward from the great manager Earl Weaver on the competiveness of the 1975 season, and the quality of hunger of the athletes pre-free agency. It then springs into the contrast between the Big Red Machine of the Cincinatti Reds and the Boston Red Sox and Yankees and Orioles and fading dynasty of the Oakland A's of the American League. It talks of the changes big money would bring to baseball, and ultimately the corporate aspect would ruin both the fun of the game, and the on-field product. However, it does not sustain this track at all. Mike Shropshire goes into a continuation of his first book, and picks up his beat of the Rangers from where it left off. Still, this is not a bad thing. He shows the contention minded Rangers and their mercurial manager, Billy Martin self destruct. Along the way, we see the hilarity of Shropshire's own actions, the quirky nature of many of the teammates, from Willie Davis, the zen meister, to Mike Kekich, the wife swapper, to Steve Hargan, equally hilarious in this book as the last, and of course, Billy Martin, who is the proverbial train wreck you can't shield your eyes from. In many ways, every bit as funny as its' prequel, missing the shock value, because it is more of same. I would have liked to have seen a prologue detailing the careers and lives of the principals after the 1975 season ended, as well as some information on Shropshire's post beat career, as well. In many ways, these stories bring out the joyousness of pro baseball. On seeing how futility plays out among the players, how second division managers cope with disappointment and frustration, and why they continue to come back for more punishment, even before the money kept them there. Recommended reading for any pure baseball fan.

I bought this product as a gift, and the service you give is unbeatable. Quick, easy and never a problem. Thanks, Ruth Petrik

This book begins with a review of the 1974 Oakland-LA World Series. When Catfish Hunter leaves the three-time World Champion A's due to a contract technicality,author and beat-writer Shropshire writes about how his hometown Texas Rangers can be considered favorites to win the 1975 AL West. Shropshire does a terrific job of weaving significant events outside of the baseball world that year with his own and the Rangers' escapades during what became a disappointing season for the Rangers. This book brought back fond memories of teams that were built from strong minor league systems--A's, Reds, Royals, Dodgers, et.al. before the Free Agency era led to the destruction of fine organizations (Pirates, Reds, Royals) and the continued dominance of the large market teams.

very fun and quick read. almost as good as season's in hell. can't wait for his next book!

Today in major league baseball the use of steroids is rampant, while the average salary of even a journeyman ballplayer is half a million dollars. This has not always been the case. As recently as 1975, before the advent of free agency, the average professional baseball player's salary in the majors was $27,600. Except for a handful of superstars, baseball players had other jobs or at least played in Latin America in the off-season to make ends meet. Mike Shropshire, a former Fort Worth Star-Telegram sports writer, recounts the highlights of the 1975 season in his personal journal as he follows the trials and tribulations of the Texas Rangers and their American League opponents. Shropshire writes in a lighthearted gonzo style, where his antics are as much of the story as the events and the people he is covering. This cynical offhanded approach is incorporated with a tendency toward exaggeration, which is the want of many a sportswriter. What is clear is that players of that day and the journalists who covered them, drank to excess, smoked or chewed tobacco incessantly, and chased women with abandon. It would also appear that at least in the recent past, baseball was rife with more than their fair share of characters. Shropshire's chronicle is not for the faint of heart, the politically correct or the prudish. But if you long for the day when booze was the drug of choice, and the ranks of baseball consisted of men like Ferguson Jenkins, Sparky Anderson, Reggie Jackson, Charlie Finley, and the irrepressible and mercurial Billy Martin - this may be the book for you. Armchair Interviews agrees.