The Boys (review)

Our protagonist in this nearly wordless picture book (the only text provides the days of the week) is a little blond tyke who heads out to the city park to play baseball once the moving truck disgorges his bat and ball. Once at the park, he's daunted by the prospect of joining the group of strange kids on the diamond, so he sadly retires to a park bench. Sharing his bench is a quartet of grandpa types, on whom our hero decides to pattern himself (complete with pink plaid pants and pretend cane). The grandpas have a cunning plan, though, luring the boy into baseball practice and developing his skills and confidence, so he's finally able to join the park kids on the field as his erstwhile tutors cheer him on from the bleachers. The plot is a little more wishful than believable, but it's an entertaining little reality-based fantasy; audiences will need to pay close attention to the images to decode the story (including usually missable sections such as the copyright page), but that will add to the book's utility as a discussion prompt, and even kids who miss a few of the details will grasp the entertaining silliness of the proceedings. The spirited ink and gouache illustrations evince a neo-retro flair, employing a classic Golden Books palette of gleaming tomato reds, sunny yellows, and sweet turquoises startlingly shadowed with coal black. White space and sweeps of pigment constitute the backdrops, giving the figures dominance; the grandpas are especially amusing, a multicultural, multi-sized, knobbly-faced, and often grumpy collection of manhood. Ultimately, this has appeal as a puzzle ("What do you think is happening here?") as well as a story, and audiences will get a particular kick out of the senior-citizen support group.