The 1930 major-league baseball season was the year of the hitter. And for sluggers in both leagues, it was absolutely nirvana.

Of course, baseball officials denied that the baseball had been juiced, but here are some statistics from that season: American League hitters had a .288 average, with 673 homers and 6,161 RBIs. In 1929, the A.L. had these numbers: a .284 average, 595 homers and 5,663 RBIs.

National League hitters combined for a .303 average, with 892 homers and 6,582 RBIs in 1930. The 1929 figures? A .294 average, 754 homers and 6,131 RBIs.

At the center of these inflated numbers, Hack Wilson still stands alone 82 years later.

At 5-foot-6, the barrel-chested and bandy-legged Wilson (every book I’ve read that mentions Hack refers to him as “bandy-legged,” so I will do the same) did not cut an imposing figure at the plate. He was short, with small hands and feet. But boy, could he hit for power.

Wilson is the focus of Tampa-based author Bill Chastain’s 11th book, “Hack’s 191: Hack Wilson and His Incredible 1930 Season” (Lyons Press, $24.95, hardback, 262 pages). Chastain, a former Tampa Tribune sportswriter who currently covers the Rays for mlb.com, brings the dusty, moldy records of the 1930 season to life as he documents one of the most incredible batting feats in baseball history.

The RBI was not a glamorous statistic during the 1920s and ’30s, and more attention was paid to home runs. Wilson responded by setting the National League record with 56 home runs. That was eye-popping, but the sheer amount of runs Wilson drove in was even more remarkable.

Chastain presents a balanced look at the Cubs during the late 1920s and early 1930s, using extensive research to highlight some of the behind-the-scenes drama in the clubhouse and front office. The team was managed by Joe McCarthy, who gained the players’ respect even though he had never played at the major-league level.

The tension between McCarthy and star acquisition Rogers Hornsby never boiled over into the public view, but Chastain shows how Hornsby skillfully steered owner William Wrigley Jr. away from McCarthy and closer to his way of thinking. That would culminate with the firing of McCarthy late in the 1930 season; Hornsby replaced him.

While Wilson was a prodigious hitter, he also was adept at hitting the speakeasies around Chicago and in other National League cities. And while he never played a game while drunk. Wilson certainly was hung over many times. But it didn’t seem to affect his game in 1930.
Chastain does a nice job recapping the 1930 season, breaking it down by months, with plenty of game details.

Wilson’s record of 191 RBIs seems untouchable. The closest any player has come to it in recent years was 1999, when Manny Ramirez collected 165.

There were several glitches in the book. Chastain referred to the home of the A’s as “Shibe Field” rather than “Shibe Park,” but that could have been how it was referred to in newspaper reports. But he misuses the word flare (when he should have written “flair”) when he writes that William Wrigley Jr.’s California island used for spring training later became “a vacation destination with an exotic flare.”

The most unfortunate gaffe came near the end of the book, when Chastain was documenting the tail end of Hornsby’s playing career. He misidentifies Yankees pitcher Lefty Gomez as Lefty Grove (who never played for a New York team), but he did get the incident right in an Aug. 17, 1933, game, as pinch-hitter Hornsby socked a home run after Gomez made a snarky comment toward the Hall of Fame second baseman.

It’s also not mentioned in the book that the homer tied the game in the bottom of the ninth, and that the St. Louis Browns would take a rare 7-6 victory against the defending World Series champion Yankees. But honestly, that last criticism is minor.

Chastain includes a chapter about the 191st RBI (for years, Wilson’s mark was set at 190 until some research uncovered an omission), and adds passages about his youth, his early career with the New York Giants (and run-ins with Hall of Fame manager John McGraw) and his steady decline after 1930, which ended when he died penniless at age 48 in 1948.

More stats from Chastain. Of Wilson’s 56 homers in 1930, 23 were solo shots. He did not hit a grand slam in 1930, and his homers produced 97 RBIs.

Overall, another solid effort. Chastain always has a knack for telling a story well, and he doesn’t disappoint in this venture into baseball history.