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FATHERS PLAYING CATC
In the pantheon of great sports literature, not a few poets have tried their hand at paying tribute to their love affair with the game — Walt Whitman, Marianne Moore, and William Carlos Williams among them. This elegant volume collects Donald Hall’s prose about sports, concentrating on baseball but extending to basketball, football and Ping-Pong. The essays are a wonderful mixture of reminiscence and observation, of baseball and of fathers and sons, of how a game binds people together and bridges generations.
Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1984
About the author
Edward T. Hall
33 books181 followersBorn in Webster Groves, Missouri, Hall taught at the University of Denver, Colorado, Bennington College in Vermont, Harvard Business School, Illinois Institute of Technology, Northwestern University in Illinois and others. The foundation for his lifelong research on cultural perceptions of space was laid during World War II when he served in the U.S. Army in Europe and the Philippines.
From 1933 through 1937, Hall lived and worked with the Navajo and the Hopi on native American reservations in northwestern Arizona, the subject of his autobiographical West of the Thirties. He received his Ph.D. from Columbia University in 1942 and continued with field work and direct experience throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. During the 1950s he worked for the United States State Department, at the Foreign Service Institute (FSI), teaching inter-cultural communications skills to foreign service personnel, developed the concept of "High context culture" and "low context culture", and wrote several popular practical books on dealing with cross-cultural issues. He is considered a founding father of intercultural communication as an academic area of study.
Hall first created the concepts of proxemics, polychronic and monochronic time, high and low context culture. In his book, The Hidden Dimension, he describes the culturally specific temporal and spatial dimensions that surround each of us, such as the physical distances people keep each other in different contexts.
In The Silent Language (1959), Hall coined the term polychronic to describe the ability to attend to multiple events simultaneously, as opposed to "monochronic" individuals and cultures who tend to handle events sequentially.
In 1976, he released his third book, Beyond Culture, which is notable for having developed the idea of extension transference; that is, that humanity's rate of evolution has and does increase as a consequence of its creations, that we evolve as much through our "extensions" as through our biology. However, with extensions such as the wheel, cultural values, and warfare being technology based, they are capable of much faster adaptation than genetics.
Robert Shuter, a well-known intercultural and cross-cultural communication researcher, commented: "Edward Hall's research reflects the regimen and passion of an anthropologist: a deep regard for culture explored principally by descriptive, qualitative methods.... The challenge for intercultural communication... is to develop a research direction and teaching agenda that returns culture to preeminence and reflects the roots of the field as represented in Edward Hall's early research."
He died at his home in Santa Fe, New Mexico on July 20, 2009.
From 1933 through 1937, Hall lived and worked with the Navajo and the Hopi on native American reservations in northwestern Arizona, the subject of his autobiographical West of the Thirties. He received his Ph.D. from Columbia University in 1942 and continued with field work and direct experience throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. During the 1950s he worked for the United States State Department, at the Foreign Service Institute (FSI), teaching inter-cultural communications skills to foreign service personnel, developed the concept of "High context culture" and "low context culture", and wrote several popular practical books on dealing with cross-cultural issues. He is considered a founding father of intercultural communication as an academic area of study.
Hall first created the concepts of proxemics, polychronic and monochronic time, high and low context culture. In his book, The Hidden Dimension, he describes the culturally specific temporal and spatial dimensions that surround each of us, such as the physical distances people keep each other in different contexts.
In The Silent Language (1959), Hall coined the term polychronic to describe the ability to attend to multiple events simultaneously, as opposed to "monochronic" individuals and cultures who tend to handle events sequentially.
In 1976, he released his third book, Beyond Culture, which is notable for having developed the idea of extension transference; that is, that humanity's rate of evolution has and does increase as a consequence of its creations, that we evolve as much through our "extensions" as through our biology. However, with extensions such as the wheel, cultural values, and warfare being technology based, they are capable of much faster adaptation than genetics.
Robert Shuter, a well-known intercultural and cross-cultural communication researcher, commented: "Edward Hall's research reflects the regimen and passion of an anthropologist: a deep regard for culture explored principally by descriptive, qualitative methods.... The challenge for intercultural communication... is to develop a research direction and teaching agenda that returns culture to preeminence and reflects the roots of the field as represented in Edward Hall's early research."
He died at his home in Santa Fe, New Mexico on July 20, 2009.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
June 22, 2026
Donald Hall - image from Wikipedia
This was a bedside book that I wound up reading elsewhere. Donald Hall is a poet who also loves baseball. The book is a compendium of baseball and some other sports essays written between, I believe, 1974 and 1982. The major piece here, the title work, tells of Hall’s spring training with the Pittsburgh Pirates. It is quite nice, warm, the sort of writing that makes one feel comfortable with the writer. There are smaller pieces in here having to do with the meaning of life, old-timers games, writing in baseball. Poetry informs his style, enriching the work in places to the level of literature. Although not a great book—there is enough landscape bereft of visual satisfaction—it is a satisfying one.
Harvard and Oxford graduate Donald Hall was the Poet Laureate of the United States in 2006. He wrote more than fifty books, including fifteen books of poetry, several memoirs, and some childrens books. He won a Caldecott for one of those, Ox-Cart Man. Hall passed away in June 2018 at age 89.
January 6, 2016
The title of this collection of essays so appealed to me in the late 80s (I’d just become a father) that I bought the book and let it languish suggestively on my shelf for 25 years, the length of time it’s taken for me to learn what it really means to toss a ball (and Frisbee) with my own son.
While I enjoyed most of the essays, they never came up to the potent evocative level of the book’s title. Apparently Hall never had a son, only a daughter, with whom he apparently never played catch. The father-son configuration was in my case more positive when I was a boy, and in the few (3?) outings with my father, I recall a satisfying volley of steady back and forth, with only occasional wayward throws and scampering retrievals from our neighbor’s adjoining yards. There was a thrill of mastery and surging strength in my play with my dad as a boy; even at age 10 or 11 I felt I could power the ball through him and that I had to take a little bit off my throws to ensure he’d continue to throw with me. I was certain that I’d been impressive. Throwing with my own son was all prodding and pushing on my part, as he had no interest and little desire to please me with any sort of effort. What he got from these sessions I do not even want to contemplate, and we never threw together more than three times. (Later, we threw with a bit more focus when he was twenty, and it made a difference, but he was still not interested in the art of it, only in the being together, the talking between throws.) Sum total for all these outings with father and son, maybe just shy of ten. A whole novel could be written around these faint etchings in the insubstantial wax of memory.
…Which I suppose I wanted Hall to do more of. His essays are all appropriately appreciative of the art of the game, the athleticism, the skills involved, etc. etc., but it’s from the perspective of the boy who was himself never quite good enough to make the team. (One essay does cover a period of time when he became expert at ping pong, beating all and sundry until he advanced to the next competitive level of tournament play and found he could barely score. There is in that essay something of the cockiness and sureness that comes of playing with confidence, a sense of mastery and youthful invincibility.)
There is in another essay a roll call of authors and works about baseball that cites the Ring Lardner, Mark Harris, Robert Coover (author of the incomparable metafictional The Universal Baseball Association: Henry J. Waugh, Proprietor), and even Philip Roth (and of course there are the appreciators: Grantland Rice, Tom Boswell, Roger Kahn, Roger Angell, et al.).
So, while Hall didn’t quite write the book I wanted him to, but it’s still entertaining (and nostalgic), if you like baseball and basketball, vintage 70s and early 80s, when he was doing most of his work.
While I enjoyed most of the essays, they never came up to the potent evocative level of the book’s title. Apparently Hall never had a son, only a daughter, with whom he apparently never played catch. The father-son configuration was in my case more positive when I was a boy, and in the few (3?) outings with my father, I recall a satisfying volley of steady back and forth, with only occasional wayward throws and scampering retrievals from our neighbor’s adjoining yards. There was a thrill of mastery and surging strength in my play with my dad as a boy; even at age 10 or 11 I felt I could power the ball through him and that I had to take a little bit off my throws to ensure he’d continue to throw with me. I was certain that I’d been impressive. Throwing with my own son was all prodding and pushing on my part, as he had no interest and little desire to please me with any sort of effort. What he got from these sessions I do not even want to contemplate, and we never threw together more than three times. (Later, we threw with a bit more focus when he was twenty, and it made a difference, but he was still not interested in the art of it, only in the being together, the talking between throws.) Sum total for all these outings with father and son, maybe just shy of ten. A whole novel could be written around these faint etchings in the insubstantial wax of memory.
…Which I suppose I wanted Hall to do more of. His essays are all appropriately appreciative of the art of the game, the athleticism, the skills involved, etc. etc., but it’s from the perspective of the boy who was himself never quite good enough to make the team. (One essay does cover a period of time when he became expert at ping pong, beating all and sundry until he advanced to the next competitive level of tournament play and found he could barely score. There is in that essay something of the cockiness and sureness that comes of playing with confidence, a sense of mastery and youthful invincibility.)
There is in another essay a roll call of authors and works about baseball that cites the Ring Lardner, Mark Harris, Robert Coover (author of the incomparable metafictional The Universal Baseball Association: Henry J. Waugh, Proprietor), and even Philip Roth (and of course there are the appreciators: Grantland Rice, Tom Boswell, Roger Kahn, Roger Angell, et al.).
So, while Hall didn’t quite write the book I wanted him to, but it’s still entertaining (and nostalgic), if you like baseball and basketball, vintage 70s and early 80s, when he was doing most of his work.
September 14, 2018
Donald Hall is one of my all time favorite authors. He writes with an empathy for his subject, whatever that may be, that is often missed by others. I picked this book up at a local Goodwill upon seeing his authorship. While the book was typically excellent Hall writing, I feel the title is misleading. Being a father of three kids, two of them boys of which sport is already an early interest, this book had nothing to do with the relationship between fathers, sons, and sports. In this and other books by Hall, his relationship with his son seems like one of his greatest mistakes. I can't review the book poorly for not being what I wanted it to be instead of what it is. It is an excellent book on sports. I just wanted it to be more than it is. But that's my fault, not the authors.
November 28, 2025
I came across this book at an estate sale for 25 cents and thought what the heck. I've read Hall's In The Country Of Baseball. It was a bit of a letdown, so I didn't have any great expectations for Fathers Playing Catch. It didn't disappoint. Hall writes about wanting to be an athlete when he was young but wasn't any good and became a poet. I think he also wanted to be like Roger Kahn but just doesn't do it.
The book is mostly made up of about 12 essays (mostly about baseball) along with a couple of poems in there. If you love to read everything written about baseball, go ahead and give it a read, but you're not missing much if you decide not to.
The book is mostly made up of about 12 essays (mostly about baseball) along with a couple of poems in there. If you love to read everything written about baseball, go ahead and give it a read, but you're not missing much if you decide not to.
March 18, 2018
I enjoyed this collection of essays or converted columns, mostly about baseball. It speaks to the appeal of baseball in a universal way, that was true 30-40 years ago and today as well. The people are a bit dated, and some of the criticism of other writers is quite harsh. Some of the pieces could have benefited from brevity.
November 12, 2017
This was great and even though I don't really read poetry I want to read more of Donald Hall's nonfiction.
August 31, 2021
4.5 stars
a wonderful collection of essays on baseball, would recommend several for a sense of good prose writing on sport
a wonderful collection of essays on baseball, would recommend several for a sense of good prose writing on sport
June 22, 2025
Not sure I 100% finished it but most of it was like eh , whatever... the title caught my attention but overall it wasn't that interesting
Read
August 4, 2008I can't even give this book a rating, as I only lasted about 50 pages. I guess I expected more of a father-son, baseball-America-type tribute. The book is advertised as a series of short stories about fathers and sons and sports. The first passage disappoints, as it is almost a diary entry of his trip to the Pirates Spring Training back in the 70's. There are perhaps two pages in this first story where he talks about his late father's quest to play minor league ball (in particular one game where his father played well and was offered a pro contract), but finishes his thought by saying how he may or may not have imagined that that ever occurred. Somewhat strange.
I stuck it out through his first story, but when the second one began as dryly as the first ended, I put it down.
In fairness to Hall, he is no doubt a gifted poet and a master of the dictionary. He's also a fellow NH-erite, so I'd rather not give him a low rating just because our styles did not mesh. But do know that storytelling is very different than writing poetry, the latter at which Hall excels. But until my literary on-deck circle is empty, I probably won't pick this book up again.
I stuck it out through his first story, but when the second one began as dryly as the first ended, I put it down.
In fairness to Hall, he is no doubt a gifted poet and a master of the dictionary. He's also a fellow NH-erite, so I'd rather not give him a low rating just because our styles did not mesh. But do know that storytelling is very different than writing poetry, the latter at which Hall excels. But until my literary on-deck circle is empty, I probably won't pick this book up again.
October 2, 2015
I loved the recent Hall book Essays after Eighty. With this book touted to feature some of his writing on his beloved baseball, my beloved baseball, I held out great hope. This book, however, was a bit uneven with a couple of highlights and more mediocre writing than special. The long piece, which is the title piece, is interesting. Certainly his experiences as an out of shape writer participating in Spring Training with the Pittsburgh Pirates offered a chuckle here and there but the better parts were when he relayed his personal memories of his baseball experiences. A significant excerpt of his book written with Dock Ellis titled The Country of Baseball appears in the book and gives a good portrait of the controversial pitcher. Perhaps the strongest piece was his paean entitled O Fenway Park.
Not his best collection.
Not his best collection.
November 7, 2010
Lovely book. Great Fathers' Day gift for all you sons out there who have a Dad who plays/played catch with you.
And, play catch with him. He'd really enjoy it!
And, play catch with him. He'd really enjoy it!
March 27, 2011
A really, really good book, very enjoyable if you have or ever were a son!
May 24, 2015
Terrific. Although I only read the baseball portion of the book (which is most of it)...
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews