81 books like The Ball in the Air

Bamberger is a terrific golf writer and what made me love this book is the fact that it’s a 30th-anniversary edition! Michael wrote this book in the early 1990s when golf—and the golf world—was in a far different place. Think about it: this was before Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson.

It is Michael’s own story and is one I found myself living through his words: giving up his job and his apartment, going on a European sojourn with his new wife to experience caddying, and meeting some of the world’s best players.

I had read this book before, and it enthralled me reading it once again.

In my own way, I lived this book. As a writer for Sports Illustrated, I chronicled the early beginnings of LIV Golf, the tension it brought to the PGA Tour, the defections of some of its top players to this upstart league that was paying huge sums and leading to disruption that still exists.

I appreciate the way Shipnuck handled this story. There is no agenda. He was critical of both sides, yet fair to both sides, trying to understand the motives. I appreciate this because the issue has been so toxic and so polarizing. It is a terrific read to understand where we are in the world of golf today.

Mark Frost is another favorite author, and he kills it in this book about Bobby Jones and the Grand Slam. I love golf and its history and to go back in time to when Jones ruled – as an amateur – is a true pleasure.

Frost’s reporting is exceptional, and he brings to life those days when Jones sought the Holy Grail – winning the Open and Amateur titles of Britain and the United States. To win the U.S. Open and British Open in 1930, he had to compete against the day’s top pros.

I particularly enjoyed the detail, the effort to recreate how it was, and the deep dive into Jones.

I have a recurring dream about living in St. Andrews. Sean Zak did so for a summer, and it was glorious.

To get to spend time at the Home of Golf is special, something I’ve done on several occasions. But always as part of work and never for an extended period of time. Zak lived there for months and brings to life all the things about the ancient town that are special beyond the golf.

I especially enjoyed the backstories, the people of the town, the explanation of links golf, all of it. He shows a nice curiosity, an American seeking answers in a foreign country that I felt particularly enlightening.

There was probably no man better at his sport than Tiger Woods was with golf. Sure there were others who dominated their sports too, but few like he did. And for so long. And yet again, we find that those that seem perfect, are actually far from it. This book looks at that dark side. I don’t know about you, but I am always more compelled and intrigued by learning the non-perfect side of people or things. Perfection is boring. Flaws are intriguing. And why not? I am full of flaws and that’s what makes me real. A book like this makes Tiger more realistic than just a tournament and majors-winning machine. Interestingly, Tiger said that Moe Norman was the best ball-striker ever.

Joseph Ellis is probably the most popular historian of the founding period, and for good reason: he has few rivals as a storyteller. As with Wood, Ellis has written at least a dozen books that could be included in my list, but Founding Brothers is probably his most well-known, as well as my personal favorite. I assign small bits of it in my American political thought course as a supplement to the primary texts, and students often comment on how much they enjoy reading it.

J.B. West was a White House Usher from 1941 to 1969. His book details many of his experiences in performing this rare and unique job in the White House, where he personally worked for Presidents (and First Ladies): Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon. There have only been three books written by White House Ushers: Ike Hoover, who served from 1904 -1933; J.B. West, 1941-1969; and me, Chris Emery, 1986-1994.

Whenever I’m working with clients who are trying to figure out if polyamory is for them, I always recommend finding a way to connect to real-life polyamorous folks. It’s so important to hear genuine stories from a wide variety of perspectives—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Going to a local meetup group is the best way to do this, but reading this book comes in at a close second. Dr. Eli Sheff, a researcher who has conducted several longitudinal studies on polyamorous families, presents this compilation of personal stories from many different folks in non-monogamous families and networks. These stories span the range from hilarious to heartbreaking. 

I saw my first raven near Mount Rainier. The bird looked me in the eye, hopped to the left, sized me up, and continued his business. The advancing Russian army drove Bernd Heinrich and his family into the forest near Hahnheide, Germany, where they lived in a small hut for five years.

There, he began his lifelong quest to connect with insects (especially bees), owls, trees, antelope (he runs ultramarathons), geese...and ravens. The mind of the Raven is a deep, scientific meditation on the intersection between being human and raven. It concludes that “ultimately [our differences are] less a matter of consciousness than of culture” (342).

I wonder how culture has dulled my imagination, a struggle Heinrich clearly has fought more successfully than I have.

A wonderful and slightly maddening memoir, this (it’s nonfiction, Jim, but not as we know it). Bayley survived her childhood by absorbing books. She evokes the worlds of David Copperfield, Jane Eyre, and everything Agatha Christie ever wrote, by ventriloquising and interweaving the voices of those stories with the story of her own parental neglect, thereby insisting, if dreamily, that the boundaries between her reliable book-land and her unstable real-life-land will remain blurred. It’s only slightly maddening (I did much the same as a child; part of me will always be Katie tumbling out of the swing). The book’s deliberate ambiguities suggest that Bayley is claiming sanctuary, reserving the right not to divulge what is still too unbearable to relate, and why shouldn’t she? It’s an amazingly honest, touching book.