The worse it gets, the more I need baseball. The worse what gets? Well, what have you got? Watched the evening news lately? Some days, the promise of a three-hour break from what novelist Philip Roth called “the indigenous American berserk” draws me like a fountain in the desert.
Roth, of course, was a great baseball fan. He even wrote a 1973 book called “The Great American Novel” — a ribald saga a…
