Frost spins good yarn about Jones' Slam

Sports Books 2004/Golf: As any handicap golfer is only too aware, the quest for perfection is an impossible dream. If one good shot is followed by another and then another, it's a sequence that should be cherished because fallibility is never far away.

For a professional player, or an exceptionally good amateur, it's different. Their shots are struck with such precision, having been honed by day-long sessions on the practice range, that perfection is - at least for some and at least for a short time - attainable.

For Mark Frost, the trouble is that his first book on golf was, darn it, as close to perfection as any author can ever expect to attain. Now, two years on from The Greatest Game Ever Played, his attempt to hit another perfect shot with The Grand Slam (published by Time Warner Books, price c. 26) very nearly comes off but, a bit like an iron approach with too much spin hit to a green that slopes from back-to-front, it falls just that little bit short of perfection.

Still, especially for a golf nut who devours the game's history, and for anyone who cannot but be constantly enthralled by the persona that was Bobby Jones, The Grand Slam - which recounts the story of the player's life but mainly focuses on his achievement in winning the four major golf championships of 1930, which at that time were the British Amateur, the British Open, the US Amateur and the US Open - is unquestionably the golf book of the year.

Jones was an enigma in many ways, notoriously shy and afraid of public speaking, yet treated to two ticker-tape parades with over a million people lining Broadway for his achievements in golf. He was America's sporting superstar of the day, yet remained an amateur. He was a self-taught golfer who, in that year of years in 1930, battled exhaustion and near-death experiences to triumph and it is to Frost's utmost credit that he manages to convey Jones The Man and Jones The Golfer to us in a wonderful read that will keep avid golfers captivated to the last of its 426 pages. If you're not an avid golfer, but love sports, treat it as a more leisurely read.

While Jones in his days playing and, later, as the innovator of Augusta National - home to the US Masters - was revered throughout the golfing world, the same cannot always be said of Nick Faldo. For someone recognised as the greatest British golfer of the modern era, with six major wins and a record 11 appearances in the Ryder Cup, Faldo has always had what can kindly be referred to as an image problem. In his autobiography Life Swings (published by Headline Books, price c. €28), he attempts to put the record straight and, to be fair to him, more often than not does so in a humorous fashion.

So, what is it with Faldo? Is he really misunderstood by the media and the public at large?

In his book, ironically written in collaboration with the Daily Telegraph's sports columnist Robert Philip, Faldo admits that "communication, or the lack of it, has been something about which I have some regrets".

He highlights the case of the dispute with Europe's Ryder Cup captain Mark James after his "supposed negative comments about Monty" and suggests that the "same lack of lateral thinking applied all too often to my home and business life".

It is such unexpected honesty from Faldo - allied, of course, with the stories behind his successes (and there are many, all superbly told) - that makes this book well worth reading. He may not have the magnetic charisma that Jones in his day possessed, but you have to admit that Faldo's life - to date - is one that will intrigue not only golfers, but the ordinary man, if such a being exists.

The timing of Faldo's book is a good one, in that he still has much to contribute to the game.

Unfortunately for Peter Alliss, his autobiography My Life (published by Hodder & Stoughton, price c. €28) comes at a time when he has reached the latter years of a career than first saw him excel as a golfer and, latterly, as a television broadcaster.

Some would argue that Alliss is out of touch with reality; but that is not true. In his book, he reflects on his life - as a golfer, as a broadcaster and as a family man (which included its share of sadness) - in a way that is interesting and revealing. It's a story worth telling and he has done it well, if, at times, in a maudlin way. But, then, isn't that part of the Alliss legend?