A Globe and Mail Best Book
A National Post Best Book of the Year
A passionate ode to baseball, its culture, and its community, which both celebrates and challenges the game – and reminds us why it really matters.
For Stacey May Fowles, the game of baseball is one of "long pauses punctuated by tiny miracles." In this entertaining and thoughtful book, Fowles gives us a refreshingly candid and personal perspective on subjects ranging from bat flips to bandwagoners, from the romance of spring training to the politics of booing, from the necessity of taking a hard look at players' injuries and mental health issues to finding solace at the ballpark.
Fowles confronts head-on the stereotype that female fans lack real knowledge about the game, and also calls out the "boys will be boys" attitude and its implications both on and off the field. She also shares her reverence for the no-hitter, her memories of going to the ballpark with her dad, and the challenges of falling in love with someone who didn't like baseball. Throughout the book, she offers exhilarating snapshots of the Toronto Blue Jays' 2015 and 2016 seasons, and gathers a selection of inspiring "baseball life advice" quotes from players and others that provide unexpected insight into how we could all live better lives.
With remarkable verve, intelligence, and an unabashed enthusiasm, Fowles explores how we can use the lens of baseball to examine who we are. And in this passionate ode to the game, its culture, and its community, she reminds us that although baseball can break your heart, it will always find a way to make it whole again.
|Publisher:||McClelland & Stewart|
|Product dimensions:||5.30(w) x 7.90(h) x 1.00(d)|
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
From Baseball Life Advice
On not being encouraged to be a baseball fan:
"Baseball is one of those things I was never told I should love. No one passed it down to me like some sacred family heirloom — I chose it for myself. Throughout my life I’ve been told I should love certain books and films, certain bands and fashions. I’ve struggled to love the jobs I did, the men I dated, family members who were less than lovable. But unlike most people and things, baseball never asked anything of me, and no one ever demanded I be loyal to it. I never played it, my parents didn’t strong-arm me into attending games, and I didn’t have a social group that insisted it become an integral part of my life. In fact, I would say that I was consistently discouraged from loving this pastime and culture built for men and boys, fathers and sons, that’s not always welcoming of my gender. There is no real template for loving baseball when you’re a girl or a woman, so you have to fumble around a bit to make it your own. I like to think I truly love the game because it made itself hard to love and I embraced it anyway. Because of that, it belongs to me in a way nothing else does."