TOM BROWNING (WITH DANN STUPP) -- TALES FROM THE REDS DUGOUT

Sports hold a distinctive place in our cultural consciousness. Athletes are our modern-day gladiators, putting their bodies on the line for, well, a variety of reasons: the rush of competition, fame and fortune, the groupies. In his essay on tennis player Tracy Austin's "breathtakingly insipid autobiography," David Foster Wallace describes the athlete's appeal with usual incisiveness: "Top athletes are compelling because they embody the comparison-based achievement we Americans revere -- fastest, strongest -- and because they do so in a totally unambiguous way." Sports biographies are seductive for those of us who marvel at the grace -- and sometimes crass nature -- of the athletic spectacle. We want to get inside their heads. All high-minded exposition brings me to Tom Browning's new autobiography, Tales from the Reds Dugout. Browning's slender memoir does its best to let the reader in on what the longtime Reds' left-hander was thinking and feeling during moments high and low. Which is to say its straightforward prose is delivered with warmth if not skill, a style that befits a guy of Browning's likeable, no-frills nature. His story is broken down into brief vignettes, each never more than a couple of paragraphs. Told largely in chronological order, Tales from the Reds Dugout revisits Browning's greatest memories: his childhood days in Wyoming; his perfect game in September of 1988; his largely sympathetic portrait of Pete Rose, whom he still holds in high esteem; his dealings with controversial Reds' owner Marge Schott; the 1990 World Series championship team; and a long list of former teammates and coaches. If you're looking for dirt, look elsewhere. Browning has several area book signings in the coming weeks. Go to browningbook.com for details. (Jason Gargano) Grade: B-