Baseball, Fathers and Forgiveness

I recently finished reading my first John Grisham novel.  I suppose that’s a little surprising, seeing as I’m a legal professional who loves to read. But I’m not that big into “thrillers,” even legal ones. So, I guess it’s not surprising that my first Grisham would be his very non-legal, non-thriller short novel about baseball: Calico Joe.

Set in the 1970s, Calico Joe tells the fictionalized account of the events leading up to a fateful at-bat between two major league ballplayers: Joe Castle and Warren Tracey. Castle, a rookie for the Cubs with the hottest bat in baseball, faces off against Tracey, a veteran, but fading, pitcher for the New York Mets.  The story is narrated by Warren’s son, Paul Tracey, who was an avid 11-year- old baseball fan in the summer of 1973, the season of the notorious confrontation between his father and his idol.

Written from the vantage point of 30 years later, Paul recounts his childhood as the son of a professional baseball player, while giving the play-by-play of his present-day attempts to reconcile his father and Castle before Warren Tracey’s impending death of cancer. Warren is a hard man, arrogant and abusive, and his self-absorption destroys his relationships, particularly with Paul.  Warren’s not much different during Paul’s adulthood, though Warren’s cancer allows him the opportunity to finally voice his long-held regrets. In contrast, Joe Castle, or “Calico Joe,” is all a good sportsman should be: full of gentility and grace on and off the baseball diamond.

Paul’s boyish idolization of Castle puts him into a conflicted emotional state as Warren Tracey pitches to Castle in a Mets-Cubs game on August 24, 1973. Spoiler alert: in an act of sheer spite, Tracey “beans” Castle in the head, permanently injuring him and ending his professional baseball career. Thirty years later, Paul, who has since married and started a family, does his best to bring Tracey and Castle together for one sole purpose: to give his dad a chance to make at least one thing right in his life before he dies. Tracey and Castle do meet, and (spoiler alert), an apology is made by one and forgiveness is extended by the other.

Oddly enough, the character who gave me most cause for reflection by the novel’s end was the person telling it: Paul Tracey. There’s much to like about Paul. Though the product of a broken home, he’s caring, courageous, responsible, and a devoted family man. Paul is nothing like his father, something he takes pride in.  Much as the older brother viewed the prodigal in Jesus’ parable, Paul sees his father as the bad guy, the one who spoiled talent and relationships on a hedonistic existence. The reconciliation between Warren and Joe is, as far as Paul is concerned, an act of penance for Warren than an instance of restorative forgiveness. As for the chances of Warren Tracey trying to make things right with anyone else in his miserable life, Paul says “fat chance.” Ironically, while Paul can accept Joe Castle forgiving Warren Tracey for ruining Joe’s life, he will never forgive his father for ruining his.

Calico Joe ends with Paul satisfied with how things turned out between his father and Joe.  And despite the apparent resolution between Warren and Paul, it’s neither satisfactory nor really healing. Both men remain wounded and broken.

The most glaring unresolved relationship in the story, however, is the most important: that of each man with God. Warren never seeks God’s forgiveness, and ironically, just like his father, neither does Paul. Apparently secure in his own “good” life as an adult, a life without the mistakes of his father, Paul misses out on the forgiveness that could have redeemed and brought healing to them both. His own self-absorption in being the man who isn’t his father, makes him even more unlikely a candidate to find the forgiveness (and consequent healing) he desperately needs.

Calico Joe is a well-crafted tale, with substantive characters, and valuable insights, particularly on relationships between fathers and sons. But its most poignant lesson is that without Jesus, seeking, arranging, or even extending forgiveness is nothing more than another good, but empty, work. For without receiving the forgiveness of a just and holy God, each person’s at-bat on Judgment Day is sure to end in a strike-out. 

Photo credit by Matthew Stratton in creative commons.