The Progress of the Seasons: Forty Years of Baseball in Our Town

by George V. Higgins

Beginning in 1946, a then eight-year-old George Higgins, accompanied by father and grandfather, began taking the long train ride out to Fenway Park to find some truth in immortals like Doerr, DiMaggio, York, and Williams, and later, Yastrzemski, Marty Barrett, and many more. This is a book about baseball and about the Boston Red Sox; but that is only part of the story. Beyond the games, the book turns on thoughts about family and continuity and, of course, the progress of the seasons. There's a magical moment when Higgins calls on his own mythic Emily to check the all-time lineup with his deceased forebears. By then, you've come to know what the author's values have in common with those in Our Town, and why certain professional athletes achieve immortality and others don't.

The Progress of the Seasons confirms what admirers of the author's sparkling accurate prose already know: Higgins is to writing what Ted Williams was to baseball, an all-star.

Genres: Baseball, Sports

228 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1989

About the author

George Vincent Higgins was a United States author, lawyer, newspaper columnist, and college professor. He is best known for his bestselling crime novels.

Reviews

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ah, the joys and pains of loving a particular sports team, especially one fated to an inordinate amount of title-seeking failure (as I have experiences as a deep-garnet follower of all things Gamecock, especially on the gridiron). Herein we have the excellent writer Higgins explaining his love for the Red Sox. A humorous account, well written, insightful and often humorous. Followers of that team and the sport as a whole will likely enjoy these pages, even if they disagree with some of his pronouncements. Higgins was a friend of my boss, and I picked this up on a whim, and I enjoyed it.

[Thom · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pretty scattered memoir and loose Red Sox history. Definitely doesn't live up to the hype on the back cover - sorry George V. Higgins, this book does not prove you to be a "writer of genius" or "a master".

The author was a Boston newspaper writer, covering crime and occasionally sports. His crime and trial work led to his mystery novels, the sports led indirectly to this book. I say indirectly because his upbringing had a lot to do with this also - both his father and grandfather were Red Sox fans.

This book was very scattered, and while the first chapter and last had a sort of "theme", the rest seemed to be plunked in after 20 or so pages. Stories of the authors life (often with father and/or grandfather) mixed with Red Sox history (especially the 80s, though earlier eras were also in attendance) and very rough statistical analysis. Chapters had some or all of those, with no particular order or conclusion. Jim Rice receives a fair amount of complaints. Unlabeled black and white pictures crop up occasionally - if you are lucky, you also get a uniform number.

For most people, this book would probably rate one star (did not like). The Red Sox of the 70s and 80s were the teams I followed most closely, and that aspect of this book was a good fit for this reader. There were bits of good writing also - I liked the comparison of Red Sox to Wilder's Our Town (see the subtitle), and the loving descriptions of Fenway Park. I'll probably check out one of his crime novels - it is said he inspired Elmore Leonard.

[Philip Girvan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Higgins turns away from gritty crime novels to reflect on his childhood, his family, particularly his father and his father's father, and their difficult relationship with the Boston Red Sox. Higgins makes it clear that his fandom is a thing inherited from his father and grandfather much in the same way one might inherit red hair or nearsightedness. It's not necessarily a blessing, but he wears it.

Written some time after the conclusion of the strange 1988 season, where a 89-73 record was just enough to clinch the AL East allowing the Sox the dubious privilege of being swept in the American League Championship Series to the Oakland A's. These aren't the Red Sox who have spoiled younger fans; these are the Red Sox who regularly disappointed large swatches of New England on an annual basis. He's got quite a bit to say about the decision of skipper John McNamara (sacked mid-season) to allow a fading Jim Rice to continue batting clean-up, some unjust (in my mind) criticism of Wade Boggs (chiding him for concentrating on his batting average rather than pulling the ball for extra base hits), and lamentations re the Sox's ongoing pitching struggles.

He has a good deal to say of Ted Williams and the contending Sox teams of the late 40s, the early awful 60s Sox who somehow came together in '67 for the Impossible Dream, the magic of Game Six of the '75 series, and other near great to disappointing Red Sox sides. Higgins also offers thoughtful commentary on the changing nature of the game (a common topic in nearly every baseball book ever written), some interesting observations on sabermetrics, a branch of statistics just beginning to enter the mainstream at the time of the book's writing, and the nature of fathers and sons.

Higgins is a skilled writer. The book is a bit indulgent, but it's interesting to read him in this type of genre.

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

(The summary of this book on Goodreads is screwed up!) I found this gem, long out of print, tucked in the baseball shelf of a used book store in Northampton. It's a brilliantly observed and lyric memoir, meandering between fields of green and the real world the way all good baseball books should. Higgins, most famous for having written "The Friends of Eddie Coyle" is in fine form here, alternating between street level Bostonian argot and high-toned mellifluous descriptions. He died in 1999, 5 years too soon. What I wouldn't give to read Higgins writing about Manny and Papi.

[Alex Reardon · Rating 5 out of 5]

The romance between Americans and baseball is captured beautifully by Higgins. I found myself relating to the connections that I made with my own father and grandfather through baseball and the once tragic fandom of Red Sox nation. I consider the closing chapter of this book to be one of my favorite writings and is quite evocative each time I return to read it. If your love for the Red Sox was handed down by your family, I highly recommend sharing this book with the person that introduced you to Boston baseball.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

George Higgins' book, written in the aftermath of the Red Sox' epic 1986 World Series collapse, is largely a memoir of his years of baseball fandom. But really, it's much more a reflection on living and dying, as mediated by baseball (and Thornton Wilder). While I didn't always follow his structure, Higgins' stories of his family and his love of the game endear the various generations of Higginses, and reading the end of this book was a surprisingly tender moment for me. This was more enjoyable than I anticipated, and should be a must-read for Red Sox fans.

[This is V! · Rating 3 out of 5]

The goodreads description of this book it’s completely wrong ... that’s messed up

[Bob · Rating 3 out of 5]

Higgins was a journalist, lawyer, and writer best known for his noir crime novels, including the well known "Friends of Eddie Coyle" which I read and thoroughly enjoyed a couple of years ago.

So I opened up this book, which is a memoir published in 1989 of his 40 year love/hate relationship with the Boston Red Sox (who then still hadn't won a WS since 1918), and his relationship with his father and grandfather who took him to Fenway Park as a kid and introduced him to the intricacies of the game . . .

It's a good (not great) book, diving deep into Red Sox players and lore that filled his childhood (and his adult life with his own children), but it was the front inscription that I found most amazing: In a child's script, "Father's Day 1989. Because you always take us to baseball games . . . and you're a great coach. Love, Matthew [then age 9] and [printed] Christopher [then age 6]"

Wonderful memories!!

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing.

George V. Higgins is one of the greatest genre fiction writers of all-time so I thought a book about his life-long passion for the Boston Red Sox (the chronically disappointing Red Sox not the big money juggernaut Red Sox; the book was written in 1989) would be interesting. It was just ok.

Higgins spends much of the book explaining baseball to his readers and although he consults with Pete Palmer he seems out of his depth when talking about statistics. No, Wade Boggs and his failures to drive in 100 runs from the lead-off spot was not the 1980s Red Sox' biggest problem. He also relies on the opinions of a few retired Red Sox who naturally tell us how the game was better back in their day.

I would like to have read much more about his personal history with his favorite team (the best parts of the book) and not as much about the shortcomings of Jim Rice.

[Leslie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good read and historical reporting of Higgins' families and others' Red Sox mania and years of disappointment. His remembrances of going to games with his father and grandfather are particularly poignant. I skipped over much of the statistical chapters and thoroughly enjoyed the rest.

[Sean-patrick Burke · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun baseball memoir, not at all the description Goodreads has.