When Henry Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s home run record in 1974, I was a sports columnist at my high school newspaper. At the time, I wrote that Ruth’s record was broken by a man who “was lacking only in flamboyance.” In other words, he equaled the legacy the Babe created, but did it quietly.

The word “only” was edited out of my story. Made me look like an Aaron-basher, which was the farthest thing from the truth.

So 36 years later, I can set the record straight: Ruth’s record was broken by a man who was lacking only in flamboyance.

Take that, overzealous copy editor.

Speaking of setting the record straight: Howard Bryant has written what I believe is the most important book of 2010. “The Last Hero: A Life of Henry Aaron” (Pantheon Books, $29.95) is more than a 600-page biography of a great slugger. It is an intimate look at a quietly intense, complicated man who rose from poverty, battled discrimination and fought against racism. And succeeded.

Bryant, a senior writer for ESPN.com and ESPN the Magazine, is no stranger to tackling complex subjects. His first book, “Shut Out: A Story of Race and Baseball in Boston,” pulled no punches and was refreshing in its candor. It also got Bryant started in the sports writing profession. He followed up his debut with a look at the steroid crisis — “Juicing The Game.”

“The Last Hero” is absorbing from the start and shows the painstaking attention to detail that Bryant used in the four years he took to complete the book. Maybe it’s because genealogy is one of my hobbies, but I love it when authors give the reader a sense of their subject’s history. So Bryant either has a subscription to Ancestry.com or a great researching staff.

The opening chapters of “The Last Hero” focus on Aaron’s parents, Herbert and Stella, and their struggles to make ends meet.

Bryant shows how while Aaron always has been compared to Willie Mays in terms of ability and star power, Henry always preferred to be mentioned in the same breath as Jackie Robinson, whom he “revered.”

“Where others saw audacity, Henry saw a road map,” Bryant writes.

“Only in following in the footsteps of Robinson could Henry realize his true path,” Bryant writes. “To use whatever influences his baseball life afforded him to have some effect on society at large.”

Aaron made a difference in Milwaukee; he certainly did the same in Atlanta. He became the first black player to become an executive for a baseball team and also enjoyed success in business.

Bryant also follows Aaron’s steady assault on Ruth’s home run record, complete with the hate mail he received and the slights from the commissioner’s office. And he also points out, quite rightly, that while Milo Hamilton’s home run call received more attention, it was the eloquent, restrained call of NBC’s Vin Scully that resonated.

“What a marvelous moment for the country and the world,” Scully said at the time.

Bryant also brings new perspective to the role Aaron played when Barry Bonds broke his career home run mark. Some media members believes Aaron was passive-aggressive on the subject, but Aaron saw taking a stand as a “lose-lose” situation. If he spoke out against Bonds, he would sound like a bitter old man who wanted to keep his record. If he remained silent, that would infer approval of Bonds’ achievement.

In the final analysis, Bryant offers a deep, rich textured look at a man who not only excelled on the baseball field, but also made his mark in society. There may not have been a lot of flamboyance, but there sure was a lot of substance.

Bryant captures it well. It’s great reading for sure.