I must have read Shoeless Joe sometime in grade school, no older than eight or nine. At the time, I loved baseball and everything about it. But even more than watching it or playing it, I enjoyed reading about the game. Between all my baseball books, W.P. Kinsella’s debut novel held a special place on my young bookshelf.
Of all the great writers, from James Thurber to Ring Lardner, to have tried their hand at a baseball story, none captured the magic and drama of the game like Shoeless Joe. And as wonderful as the book was, the movie adaptation …