I suppose I should preface this review by saying that I come at the story of Dodger Stadium’s construction from a particular angle. I’ve never been to Dodger Stadium. My Dodger fandom came as a result of knowing a Brooklyn Dodgers player when I was little and a sprinkling of adult-onset PTSD. This is to say I don’t have the emotional connection to the geographic place that is Dodger Stadium that many others on this subreddit do.

The story of Dodger Stadium’s construction and the destruction of the neighborhoods now buried under it is fascinating. Even still, the clash between the idea of Dodger Stadium as ”Blue Heaven on Earth” (which still holds sway over me, don’t get me wrong) with the reality of the neighborhoods beneath it can be hard to rectify.

Eric Nusbaum, the writer of Stealing Home: Los Angeles, the Dodgers, and the Lives Caught in Between, is far from the first to chronicle the neighborhoods of Palo Verde, Bishop and Loma. Don Normark released the photography book Chavez Ravine: 1949 in 1999; Shameful Victory, Forever Blue and City of Dreams covered much of the same ground. The 2003 Culture Clash play “Chavez Ravine” explored the episode from the perspective of the residents.

Nusbaum takes a broader and yet infinitely specific look at the stadium’s construction. He weaves three different trajectories together throughout the book: housing official Frank Wilkinson, Palo Verde residents the Aréchiga family and the broader history of baseball. All three tales relate to the stadium and Nusbaum does his damnedest to connect all three to one other.

This is easiest in the cases of Wilkinson and the Aréchigas. They both follow a similar geographic path: the Aréchigas start in Mexico before moving to a mining town in Arizona, while Wilkinson moved from Michigan to another mining town not far from the Aréchigas. Eventually, they moved to Los Angeles for separate reasons.

Wilkinson became a housing activist after traveling the world and experiencing poverty. The Aréchigas became housing activists by trying to save their house. Their lives continuously intertwine, even if they’re initially unaware of one another.

The book is at its weakest when Nusbaum attempts to weave the histories of baseball and Los Angeles into his tale. Many of these vignettes and characters are interesting; Nusbaum devotes many chapters to Duke Snider, Jackie Robinson and Mexican mogul Jorge Pasquel. Although interesting, many of these chapters fade into the ether once they pass, only referenced in one or two sentences near the end. Only when the broader perspective finally turns to Los Angeles and individuals such as Roz Wyman, Fritz Burns and Raymond Chandler does it stick in the reader’s mind.

That said, Stealing Home is an easy read. It is engrossing and can be knocked out in a sitting despite its 350 page length. Nusbaum proves himself to be a master at setting a scene; he describes the settings and characters of his grand play in striking detail, leaving just enough to the imagination that the people in the story feel real and part of and subject to forces bigger than themselves.

It strains when Nusbaum attempts to set a mood, though. When Nusbaum shoots for a noir-ish tone (because “this wouldn’t be a book about Los Angeles if there were not a good conspiracy somewhere in it”), one can see the gears of the story churning. It drops the facade of this world, only for it to return once Nusbaum stops trying too hard.

I hesitate to call Stealing Home absolute required reading for Dodger fans, especially when many other books talk about the same material. During quarantine, however, there are certainly lesser options if you’re looking for something brand new to read.