Nighttime Reading

Reading seven books at a time undoubtedly labels me a promiscuous reader, but I am not alone. A Mr. Gothe of my acquaintance always carries three books, of widely different types, when flying, and Bill Clinton never traveled on Air Force One without a well-stocked book bag.

My current interest is in choosing the right book to read before lowering the lamp and saying nighty-night to the conscious world.  There are definite criteria: first, one does not want a book too heavy to prop up along with a plate of peanut butter cookies or so abstruse that one is required to drag along the OED.  Nor does one want political memoirs, ghost stories, or do-it-yourself manuals that may lead to dreams of repairing a 1968 Volkswagen.

What I have found, after decades of research, is this:  the perfect nighttime reading is a book on sports.  And the perfect sports book is "My Life as a Fan" by Wilfrid Sheed.

The Sheed screed is about his long fascination with baseball, begun in 1940, when his family emigrated from England to the United States.  The arcana of box scores, and such names as Muscles Medwick, Daffy Dean, Pepper Martin and Enos Slaughter, soon became magic to him.  

I have several friends who fall into the hyperfan category (one ad agency colleague used to take his holidays during the World Series and send his wife and children out of town so he could go into deep communion with his television set) but baseball is not something with which I am on terms this close or emotional. 

Still, I find "My Life as a Fan" ideal nighttime reading, even though it is filled with names that perhaps only Sheed, Roger Angell and Dave Frishberg would recognize.  Dave Frishberg, you may recall, wrote a song titled "Van Lingle Mungo," the lyrics of which consisted of nothing but major league ball players' names, among them Heeney Majeski, Bob Estadella, Big Johnny Mize, Pinky May and Frenchy Bordagaray. 

And furthermore..oh gosh, is it that time already?  Gotta get my Ovaltine and "My Life as a Fan."  'Night!