When I saw Ball Four trending on Twitter earlier today, I had a bad feeling.
While I was relieved to find out that Jim Bouton had not died (and participating at the Society of American Baseball Research's annual convention in NYC this weekend), I was saddened to learn that he has a brain disease that limits his cognitive functions including his ability to write. The condition, cerebral amyloid angiopathy, came about as a result of complications from two strokes Bouton, now 78, suffered five years ago. The disease is linked to dementia.
Aside from being saddened to learn that Bouton is having these health problems, I am saddened these health problems have robbed him of his ability to write. More than any other Ball Four inspired me to become a writer or at least try to make a go of it. Ball Four also helped me understand my place in the world as an outsider and how to make the best of that role. I don't always succeed, but I shudder to think what my life would be like if I hadn't read Ball Four in the eighth grade. Ball Four did for me what The Communist Manifesto did for George Bernard Shaw in the Reading Room of the British Museum - it turned his life upside down. I had the opportunity to tell Bouton this when I met him at the Boston Public Library in the summer of 2003.
Under the circumstances, I have reason to doubt he remembers. If nothing else this post will serve as a reminder to Jim Bouton as to what he has meant to me and what he will always mean to me.
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