From Publishers Weekly
Stone offers a thorough if pedestrian account of the life of Ralph "Blackie" Schwamb, a promising pitcher from the 1940s with an unfortunate tendency for getting into trouble. After setting a backdrop of Los Angeles awash with glitz, gangsters and temptation, Stone (a journalist who, oddly, specializes in Asian economics and politics) follows Schwamb along his unfortunate ride from a troubled stint in the Navy to equally unsuccessful flirtations with organized crime and big-league baseball. The elements for a good story are here: the skilled yet brash Schwamb is a flawed antihero whose aggressive nature and frequent drunken binges ultimately combined to destroy his career and land him in San Quentin Prison for murder. But the narrative lacks inventiveness. Aside from providing historical context, Stone merely ticks off the events of Schwamb's life; this results in a leaden tour from hangover to hangover, punctuated by blown chances and missed opportunities. Readers will empathize with Schwamb when-more than halfway through the book-he shows his stuff for the prison team. This bright spot isn't early or effective enough, however, to establish a true connection with the subject. Fans and historians of the game may enjoy this account, but others will be left with an unsatisfying portrait of a potentially compelling character. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Library Journal, February 1, 2005
Stone interweaves interesting tidbits of popular culture and history (particularly that of Los Angeles). Recommended for public libraries.

Review
"Baseball rarely edges into noir, but this compelling biography by Eric Stone reads as if it had been filmed in black and white in the golden age of film noir Hollywood. Mesmerized by the waste of it all, yet tempted to hope because of his talent, we follow the story of a brilliant but flawed player, Blackie Schwamb, whose career was derailed through the tragic consequences of gangland connections."--Kevin Starr, University Professor in History, University of Southern California, California State Librarian Emeritus, author of Coast of Dreams: California on the Edge, 1990-2003 and the other six volumes of the "Americans and the California Dream" Series

"Blackie Schwamb pitched in the American League for the St. Louis Browns. Blackie Schwamb pitched in Folsom and San Quentin . . . You'll finish Wrong Side of the Wall asking yourself, 'What if . . .'"--Joe Garagiola, former major league ballplayer, radio and television broadcaster, and author of Baseball is a Funny Game

"As a ten-year-old St. Louis Browns' fan, I saw the apple-cheek side of baseball and loved it. Eric Stone's look at the dark underside is eerie, fascinating, and impossible to put down."--Win Blevins, author of Beauty for Ashes, and numerous other award winning historical fiction and non-fiction books


Tom Brokaw - NBC News Anchorman and Best Selling Author
Stone's riveting account of Schwamb's great baseball talent and equally great character defects is much more than a sports story.

Peter Gammons, ESPN Baseball Analyst
This is not a "sports" story. It is brilliant, chilling and real.

Kevin Starr - Historian and State Librarian Emeritus of California
This compelling biography reads as if it had been filmed in B&W in the golden age of film noir Hollywood.

Book Description
An account of Ralph "Blackie" Schwamb, one of the best baseball prospects ever to come out of Los Angeles, who became the greatest player in the history of prison baseball.


From the Inside Flap
"Eric Stone's riveting account of Blackie Schwamb's great baseball talent and equally great character defects is so much more than a sports story. It is a fascinating trip along a life on the edge, in and out of trouble, golden opportunities and missed chances."—Tom Brokaw, NBC-TV’s Anchor for the "NBC Nightly News"

From the Back Cover
Set against the grime-and-glitter backdrop of mid-twentieth-century Los Angeles, Wrong Side of the Wall is the true story of a talented young athlete in the days before special ability in sports was a ticket to riches. Faced with a choice of probable success in the revered but grueling world of major league baseball or the easy money, fast times, and glamour of organized crime, Ralph "Blackie" Schwamb tried to have it all. But the pull of the underworld was inevitably too strong, and Blackie, a rising star pitcher for the St. Louis Browns at twenty-two, was behind bars for a brutal murder at twenty-three.
Wrong Side of the Wall grabs the reader like a fast-paced novel, breathlessly racing through Depression-era and World War II Los Angeles and into the postwar economic boom, plunging into a world-from Mexico to Canada-of gangsters, nightclubs, girls, guns, gambling, and booze-and baseball, mostly behind prison walls. Permanently separated from all chance of success-straight or crooked-by his penchant for screwing up, Blackie established himself as a legendary prison-yard baseball pitcher and hitter. He was so renowned for his heat that baseball scouts came from around the country to match hitting prospects against him, and major and minor league players regularly came to San Quentin and Folsom prisons to get the chance to play against the prison phenom.
When at last Blackie got out of jail, he was too old and battered to make the cut. A childhood friend says of Blackie, "I looked up and he had tears in his eyes. And he said, 'You know . . . I really could have been something.' I guess I got a little misty-eyed myself. What could you say to the guy? He had ruined his life, and a few others along the way. You have to live with yourself, and sometimes that's punishment enough."



About the Author
ERIC STONE is a longtime journalist, specializing in the economics and politics of Asia rather than in sports. He is a native, current resident, and booster of Los Angeles and a lifelong Dodgers fan. He's also the author of The Living Room of the Dead, the first of the Ray Sharp series of detective novels.


Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
In the 1940s, Blackie Schwamb could have had it all. He should have had it easy. Smart and charming, alarmingly tall, thin and strong, he also had a vicious fastball and a brutal curve. He was one of the brightest baseball prospects ever, at a time when the game was in its heyday. He came of age in Southern California, ground zero at the beginning of the greatest economic boom in history. He had the opportunity to live large the fantasies of most American men and boys of his time.
But there was something wrong with him, something dark and terrible that festered and grew, fueled by the very same events and culture that also nurtured good, hard-working solid citizens. The economic hardships of the Depression stimulated kindness, generosity and entrepreneurship in some people and at the same time encouraged the greed, cruelty and scheming of others. The horrors of the Second World War brought out bravery, compassion and camaraderie in some, but gave vent to the cowardice, heartlessness and selfishness of others. The American Dream has always had its nightmare side.

Blackie had spent the early part of the night of October 12, 1949, downing beer and shots at Jimmy's, a dark, neighborhood workingman's bar at 81st and Vermont. It had been a hot day, over 90. The temperature had plummeted almost 30 degrees by nine or so that night. Schwamb was out on bail for a robbery and was sticking close to home. He lived nearby, because he never drove drunk: "Never have and never will."
He was pretty well in the bag by the time Ted and Joyce Gardner, some old pals, showed up. Ted was a nattily dressed guy with romantic-lead good looks. He was a carpenter when he worked, which wasn't often, but he always seemed to have cash. He flaunted an oversized onyx ring and drove new cars. Joyce was a doll. To look at her you'd just know that the guys must've fallen all over her. She had dark, thick reddish hair, deep slow eyes and full lips. Standing still she'd cock a hip in a way that made you think she was rotating, slowly. Schwamb said she was "built right in all the right places." She worked in a dime store.
The Gardner's had a drunk doctor in tow. They'd picked the guy up at the Colony Club, a burlesque house down on Western in Gardena. He'd been with his wife at the Normandie, a poker palace across the street, told her he was taking a break to cash a check and see a couple of friends and crossed over to catch a show.
"So they came and got me. Told me this doctor had been at Hollywood Park all day and made some money."

Blackie Schwamb and trouble were already well acquainted by then.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Set against the grime-and-glitter backdrop of mid-twentiethcentury Los Angeles, Wrong Side Of The Wall is the true story of a talented young athlete in the days before special ability in sports was a ticket to riches. Faced with a choice of sure success in the revered but grueling world of major league baseball or the easy money, fast times, and glamour of organized crime, Ralph "Blackie" Schwamb tried to have it all. But the pull of the underworld was inevitably too strong, and Blackie, a rising star pitcher for the St. Louis Browns at 22, was behind bars for a brutal murder at 23.

Wrong Side Of The Wall grabs the reader like a fast-paced novel, breathlessly racing through Depression-era and World War II LA and into the postwar economic boom, plunging into a world of gangsters, nightclubs, girls, guns, gambling, and booze, from Mexico to Canada-and baseball, mostly behind prison walls. Permanently separated from all chance of success-straight or crooked-by his penchant for screwing up, Blackie established himself as a legendary prison-yard baseball pitcher. He was so renowned for his heat that baseball scouts came from around the country to match hitting prospects against him, and major and minor league teams regularly scheduled exhibitions against the San Quentin and, later, Folsom prison all-stars to get the chance to play against the prison phenom. When at last Blackie is out of prison again, he's too old to make the cut. A childhood friend says of him, "I looked up and he had tears in his eyes. And he said, 'You know . . . I really could have been something.' I guess I got a little misty-eyed myself. What could you say to the guy? He had ruined his life, and a few othersalong the way. You have to live with yourself, and sometimes that's punishment enough."

FROM THE CRITICS

Library Journal