Aaron, a greater hero than Ruth

In 1964, 8-year-old Sandy Tolan "met" the baseball player whowould be his lifelong hero when his older sister Kath introduced him,magnanimously, to an American institution. "`Here,' Kath said,holding out a gift, `You got Henry Aaron in your first pack ofbaseball cards."'

Nine years later, 17-year-old Sandy, startled to read that hishero was receiving racist hate mail as he zeroed in on Babe Ruth'srecord of 714 home runs, wrote Aaron a simple letter: "Don't listento them, Mr. Aaron. We're in your corner. You're my hero. I believein you."

Several weeks later, to his astonishment, he received thefollowing reply: "Dear Sandy: I want you to know how very much Iappreciate the concern and best wishes of people like yourself. Ifyou will excuse my sentimentality, your letter of support andencouragement meant much more to me than I can adequately express inwords. Most sincerely, Hank Aaron."

Now 42-year-old Tolan, a respected reporter and documentary makerfor National Public Radio, has produced Me and Hank: A Boy and HisHero, Twenty-Five Years Later (Free Press, $24) an alternatelycharming and troubling book. We should all be glad he did.

Far more than just a book on baseball, Me and Hank is Tolan'searnest (at times almost too earnest) attempt to figure out why BabeRuth still seems to outrank Hank Aaron on baseball's Mount Olympus.Tolan's reluctant conclusion? That other national pastime, racism.

According to Charlie Danrick, baseball memorializer extraordinaireand just one of the scores of fascinating people the authorinterviewed in dozens of communities (and bars and ballparks) largeand small across the country, "I think it's racism. It is racism. Whywould an achievement like that-breaking Babe Ruth's record-not berecognized, not be sought by baseball fans all over the world? Andthe only thing I would think of was that the record was broken by ablack man. That's all. That is all."

In the end, Tolan is comforted by the comment of Dusty Baker: "`Think of all the people Hank motivated. You're an example, I'm anexample. There are tons of us running around that Hank had a directinfluence on,' the manager of the San Francisco Giants said. `Whetherhe knew it or not.' "

Amen to that.

While researching Flying Cloud: The True Story of America's MostFamous Clipper Ship and the Woman Who Guided Her (Morrow, $26), DavidW. Shaw consulted the journals of the captain, his wife (who waschief navigator) and several passengers, as well as such otheroriginal sources as the ship's log. He relates, most engagingly, howin 1851 the Flying Cloud, a brand-new clipper, set a world speedrecord on its maiden voyage by sailing from New York and around CapeHorn to San Francisco in 89 days.

Several things make this interesting story even more compelling.One is that the ship's weather deck, or center stage, was shared bythe captain's wife, Ellen Cressy, a skilled navigator who believed inmodern scientific principles far earlier than her male counterpartsand operated with her husband's full support, though he was notexactly a proto-feminist. The second is that the author has takengreat license and framed the book as if it were historical fiction.

Finally, there's all the fascinating information you pick up alongthe way, from geography to animal husbandry to what life was like onboard a 235-foot ship for literally months at a stretch. A greatyarn, "Flying Cloud" made me want to read Longitude all over again.

Don't have your sea legs? Then stay on terra firma with How to Winat Golf Without Actually Playing Well, by Jon Winokur (Pantheon,$21), as witty a book as you're apt to find on any sport. Winokur,whose many books include The Rich Are Different and Advice toWriters, is not just funny, he's devilishly funny. His goal is notfair play, but winning, and to that end he offers to teach us what hecalls "gamesmanship."

He writes, "This book is intended to serve as both a sword and ashield. A sword to attack superior players, a shield to protectagainst other gamesmen. But if your idea of golf is a few clubs in acanvas bag and the glory of a golden afternoon, if you consider golfa sacrament to be played for the sheer uplift, you won't need it. If,on the other hand, you venture an occasional wager on the game, youhave a healthy will to win, and you aren't averse to psychologicalcombat, this book will show you how. . . . And, if your idea ofgamesmanship is jangling your pocket change or ripping Velcro on yourglove to distract your opponent, you really need this book."

Yet another advantage of this delightful book is that it fits inyour golf bag, so if you should be reading it and burst out laughingin the middle of your opponent's backspin, you could hardly beblamed. But I'm afraid the author would find that gambit, if legal,far too obvious; his tactics are far more subtle.