IRON, UNTIL IT BREAKS

A Novel of Lou Gehrig

January 1941. Lou Gehrig is dying.

The man who played 2,130 consecutive games—who never missed a day, never complained, never stopped—can no longer hold a pen. His hands, which once drove 493 home runs, now tremble with the disease that will soon bear his name.

With his wife Eleanor at his side, Lou begins to tell his story. Not the legend. The truth.

About the mother who sacrificed everything and demanded he sacrifice more. About living in Babe Ruth's shadow while quietly becoming a better man. About the moment he finally chose love over duty. And about standing at home plate on July 4, 1939, and meaning it when he said he was the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

Iron, Until It Breaks is a fictional yet devastating, intimate novel about what it costs to endure—and what it means to let go.

More Than Baseball: A Beautiful, Heartbreaking Portrait of Lou Gehrig

I picked up Iron, Until It Breaks expecting a baseball story. What I got was something far rarer: an intimate, quietly devastating novel about endurance, love, and what it costs to be “reliable” for everyone—until your body won’t let you anymore.

The framing is brilliant: January 1941, with Lou Gehrig facing the slow cruelty of the disease that will soon bear his name, and looking back with Eleanor beside him. The writing captures the private weight behind the public legend—his mother’s relentless expectations, the loneliness of living in Babe Ruth’s shadow, and the way a good man can become great not by being loud, but by showing up.

Even if you don’t follow baseball, the emotional arc lands hard. The story builds toward July 4, 1939 with a steady, human ache—and when you reach that moment, it hits with meaning, not mythology.

If you love literary historical fiction, sports biographies in novel form, or character-driven stories that stay with you long after the last page, this is absolutely worth your time.