I made a resolution this year to read more books. Part of this was because reading improves your writing. Part of it was because I found myself pretty deficient in the current marketplace. Part of it was that I needed comp titles for a book I wanted to pitch to agents.
The Cactus League (2020) by Emily Nemens came up as a possible contemporary comp because my work-in-progress explored the intersection of sports, character, and media.
Across its nine chapters, The Cactus League is about baseball, yet it's not. Each chapter tells a different story from a different point of view character. It all happens during spring training in Scottsdale, Arizona, for the Los Angeles Lions, a fictional MLB team. In the end, most of these narrative threads intersect.
Observing all of this is a sportswriter who provides a story-within-a-story of his own about Jason Goodyear, an absurdly talented baseball player whose gambling addiction derails his marriage and baseball career. Goodyear isn't the main character of the book, as there are many protagonists within the interlinked narrative, but he and his Lions are foundational to the story.
![]() |
| Image via Barnes & Noble |
From the public's point of view, Goodyear is Baseball's Golden Boy, the next great superstar. Privately, however, he's a mess, indebted to loan sharks and even pilfering money from a rookie prospect who received a modest signing bonus.
The novel plays more like an interlinked anthology than anything, as the individual chapters tell stories from the points of view of different characters. While elements of the stories are connected, they're not obsessively interlinked, serving as side stories to the same overall narrative. I'm not explaining this very elegantly, but it works well enough.
At first, this approach threw me off. The first chapter is about a hitting coach who's back for spring training and discovers someone has broken into his house and lived there during the offseason. The next chapter follows a woman with a, let's just say "special," love of ballplayers. She encounters Goodyear and the two end up sneaking into Frank Lloyd Wright's Taliesin West, where Goodyear gets arrested after doing some property damage.
Typically, you'd expect to come back to the Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 narrators as POV characters in the book, but that never happens. Subsequent chapters introduce new POV characters with new problems and plots. If a previous POV character reappears, they're a side character, a reference, or ancillary to the chapter's plot.
Some readers won't like this approach. Once I acclimated to it during the third chapter ("Oh, that's how this is going to go"), then I was fine with it. The individual stories are all well done, although I thought the sportswriter tangents were a bit much at times.
The novel excels in its affection for baseball and spring training. You can tell Nemens is a baseball fan and most of the details land. There are some curiosities, like a pitcher who tosses a complete game in spring training, but overall, I think it's a searing double into the gap. Baseball is a ritual, and Nemens teases a lot of drama out of it.
On a personal level, it's neat that it was set in Scottsdale, Arizona, because that's where my wife and I went on our honeymoon about 20 years ago. Some of the sights and roads were familiar to me, and we actually visited Taliesin West on our trip.

.jpg)