Eight games into the 1935 season, Detroit Tigers catcher Mickey Cochrane is injured and done for the year. His backup is Arthur Graham, a 40-year-old rookie who has spent the last 22 years honing his skills in the Texas League.
Fast forward to Detroit, Michigan 1980. Graham is now 85 years old. He sits on the bench in front of the church feeding the birds. One sunny morning in July, his day is interrupted by 12-year-old Lincoln. When Arthur discovers that Lincoln eats, sleeps, and dreams baseball, he tells the young man a story he will not soon forget. Lincoln sits fascinated as Arthur’s words take him back in time to the glory days of baseball. It is a time of legends. Greenberg, Gehrig, Cobb and Ruth. Lincoln comes back to the bench each day, excited to hear more. It is Arthur’s love for God and his passion for baseball that he imparts upon young Lincoln.
Arthur’s story is a faith-based journey that highlights perseverance, family values, and a loving God’s amazing grace. In the inspirational spirit of The Natural and For Love of the Game, The 40-year-old Rookie delivers a major league ending for the ages.
Eight games into the 1935 season, Detroit Tigers catcher Mickey Cochrane is injured and done for the year. His backup is Arthur Graham, a 40-year-old rookie who has spent the last 22 years honing his skills in the Texas League.
Fast forward to Detroit, Michigan 1980. Graham is now 85 years old. He sits on the bench in front of the church feeding the birds. One sunny morning in July, his day is interrupted by 12-year-old Lincoln. When Arthur discovers that Lincoln eats, sleeps, and dreams baseball, he tells the young man a story he will not soon forget. Lincoln sits fascinated as Arthur’s words take him back in time to the glory days of baseball. It is a time of legends. Greenberg, Gehrig, Cobb and Ruth. Lincoln comes back to the bench each day, excited to hear more. It is Arthur’s love for God and his passion for baseball that he imparts upon young Lincoln.
Arthur’s story is a faith-based journey that highlights perseverance, family values, and a loving God’s amazing grace. In the inspirational spirit of The Natural and For Love of the Game, The 40-year-old Rookie delivers a major league ending for the ages.
Arthur Graham sat on the newly donated bench that faced the church's courtyard. It was already eighty degrees at 8:30 a.m., and it was looking like a beautiful summer day was taking shape. Arthur smiled as he tossed some breadcrumbs onto the ground. He watched as the birds landed and ate the crumbs. He smiled and grabbed another handful.
"Don't fight, my friends, there's plenty for all of you," he stated as he smiled and tossed more onto the ground.
"Whatcha doing, mister?" A voice asked.
He froze as he was reaching into the bag.
"You guys can talk?" He heard laughter to his left.
"Birds can't talk."
He turned to see a young boy standing next to the bench, smiling in his direction. Arthur laughed and motioned for him to take a seat.
"I didn't know anyone else was here. Please, young man, have a seat."
He scooted further to his right to make some room. The young man took a seat next to him.
"My name's Lincoln Fisher. What's yours?"
Arthur smiled and held out his hand. "My name is Arthur Graham, Lincoln. Pleased to meet you." Lincoln took his hand, and they shook.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Graham." He looked down at the bag full of breadcrumbs. "Do you mind if I feed them some?" "Not at all. Reach in there and grab a handful."
Lincoln grabbed a handful of crumbs and threw them out onto the ground. More birds landed and ate. He smiled and looked over at Arthur.
"Why are you here so early, Mr. Graham?"
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"Well, son, you'll find as you get older you don't need as much sleep. I usually get up around 6:30 a.m. most days. Sometimes it's earlier."
"On your own? Nobody makes you get up that early?"
Arthur laughed. "If I'm lucky, some days I sleep in until 7:30 a.m. Why? What time do you get up?" "During the summer, I usually sleep until 10:00 a.m. Some days later." "My goodness, that's a long time to sleep in." Arthur looked at his watch. "What has you up so early on this fine summer day?"
Lincoln sighed, "My dad. He has a job to do here at the church, and since my mom is gone for the next few weeks, I have to come with him. Well, maybe just for a week because I might stay at my friend Billy's house next week."
"Oh." Arthur laughed. "Is he the one building the addition to the worship center?" "Yep. Well, him and his company." "Well, that'll be nice."
"Yeah, he does good work."
"You can come sit with me this week and feed the birds." "I guess I might as well. Are you here every day?"
"Most days."
"Don't you have anything else to do?"
Arthur smiled and looked at Lincoln. "Well, since I retired, it has become one of my favorite things to do."
"Retired?"
"I used to be the pastor of this church for forty years."
"Forty years? Wow! How old are you, Mr. Graham?"
"I just turned 85."
"What day is your birthday?" "June 27th." "Cool. Mine is June 25th. But I just turned 12."
"So, I'm just a few days older than you," Arthur smiled.
Lincoln laughed out loud and watched as the birds continued to peck away at the ground.
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"So why did you retire?"
"I felt it was time to turn the job over to my son, Dillard. Then, Mrs. Graham and I could travel a little and feed the birds." Lincoln looked around.
"Where is Mrs. Graham?"
"Feeding the birds really isn't her thing. So, I come here in the morning and feed them and read my Bible. You know what a Bible is, Lincoln?" "Of course I do. We go to church on Sundays."
"Where to?"
"We go to Grace, over on Lahser."
"Oh, that's a nice church. I know the pastor there well."
"Yeah, Pastor Steven is a nice guy. He gives us suckers sometimes."
"Well, that's nice."
"Yeah. I like Sunday school. Right now, we're learning about Jonah." "Ah, the fella that got swallowed by the big fish." "Yep, that's the one."
Lincoln put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a baseball. Arthur's eyes lit up as he watched the young man toss the ball into the air and catch it.
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Chris Fisher watched from a distance as his son sat on a bench and talked to an elderly gentleman. His thoughts drifted momentarily when the pastor's firm voice interrupted him.
"Mr. Fisher, are you okay?"
Chris looked at him and answered, "Yeah…yep, I mean yes, pastor, I'm fine."
Dillard followed Chris's gaze until he noticed his father talking to a young boy sitting on the bench that faced the church courtyard.
"Is that your son?" Dillard asked.
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"Yes, sir, it is. His mother's gone, and he'll be coming to work with me. Don't worry, he won't distract me from getting the job done."
Dillard laughed. "I'm not worried about that, Mr. Fisher. Your company’s reputation is solid. I was just going to tell you not to worry about the old man sitting next to him. That's my father, Arthur. He was pastor of this church for a little over forty years before I took over almost five years ago."
"Oh. Okay. I just didn't know. I didn't mean to offend you." "Offend me? For being an attentive father. Never."
"I just hope my boy doesn't drive him crazy talking his ear off. All he wants to do is play, talk, eat, and sleep baseball right now. If your dad knows nothing about baseball, he will when Lincoln's done."
Dillard smiled. "Dad knows a little about baseball, so they should get along just fine."
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"Do you know anything about baseball, Mr. Graham?" Lincoln asked.
"I do,” he answered with a smile. "Probably not more than me." "Probably not, but I have a really good story that might interest you." Lincoln caught the ball and then focused his attention on Arthur.
"Is it a story about baseball?" "As a matter of fact, it is. Since we're going to be bench buddies for the next week, or possibly longer, would you like to hear it?" "Only for a week. Remember, next week I might be at my friend Billy's."
"But what if I'm not done with my story at the end of the week?" "Like my dad says, ‘Let's play it by ear.’”
Arthur chuckled, "That's fair." He tapped his chin. "Where to begin. Maybe from birth."
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"When were you born?" "June 27, 1895."
"Wow!"
Arthur laughed so hard that it started a coughing fit. Lincoln did what his mother always did when he coughed and started patting Arthur on the back. When he finally gained his composure, he looked over at Lincoln.
"Thank you, young man. It's been a while since I've laughed that hard."
"Sorry, I just didn't expect to hear 18 in front of the year." "That's alright. I'm old, and I know it." He smiled. "So, do you play baseball, or do you just go around throwing a ball into the air?" "I play. I'm in a league right now."
"Is that so? Why aren't you playing right now?" "We don't play on Mondays. We practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays from 6:00 p.m. until 7:00 p.m. And we have games on Wednesdays at 6:30 p.m., and Saturdays at 10:00 a.m."
"That's a big commitment."
"I know. I give up sleeping in on the weekend."
"Not from you. From your parents. They must really love you to make that kind of commitment. I hope you appreciate that." "Yes, sir, I do."
"Good. It's a tough job being a parent. Do you have brothers and sisters?" "My sister Lucy is 10 and my brother Jack is 8."
"That's a full house. Do they play sports as well?"
"Naw. My sister is what my mom calls 'a girly girl,' and my dad says that Jack has the 'attention span of a gnat.' It’s true,” he finished.
Arthur chuckled. "So, you're the serious one in the family?"
"With baseball, I am."
"What position do you play?" "Third base." "Say…that's a hot corner. You can't take your eye off the ball for a second."
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"Boy, you said it. Two weeks ago, we were playing in a game and a kid got hit right in the junk…I mean…um…the."
Arthur stepped in to help him. "The beans." Lincoln laughed. "Yeah. The beans. My mom doesn't like me telling that story, but it's kind of funny."
“Unless you're the guy getting hit in the beans."
They took a moment to laugh out loud together.
Arthur continued, "So, are you any good?" "I made the all-star team last year, and the coach says I'll probably make it again this year." "Really! Well, that's impressive."
"Thanks. I really love playing. When I'm not playing, I watch the Tigers as much as I can, and every once in a while, my dad gets tickets for me and him."
"That's nice. Who's your favorite player?" "Lance Parrish."
"What? He's a catcher, not a third baseman."
"I know, but he's a lot of fun to watch. He hits the ball hard." "Yes, he does. He reminds me of a young Hank Greenberg."
"Who does he play for?"
Arthur turned to look at him.
"I thought you said you knew baseball?" "I know a lot, but I don't know everything. Who is he?" Arthur smiled.
"He's one of the greatest baseball players that ever played the game, and a part of the story I'm about to tell you." "Who did he play for?" Arthur leaned in and whispered, "The Detroit Tigers." "Awesome!" Lincoln paused and then asked, "Is this a true story or one that you made up?" "It's true. Should I start?" "Wait one second." Lincoln reached his hand into the bag and pulled out some more crumbs. He threw them onto the ground and watched as the birds flocked to them once again. He smiled and then looked
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up at Arthur. "Okay, I'm ready." "One more thing." Arthur reached his hand into a different bag and pulled out a shiny red apple. "I brought two just in case I met someone. You want one?" "Sure, Mr. Graham, thanks. My dad likes the green ones, but I like the red ones." "Me too. The green ones are a little too sour for me."
"Yeah. They make my insides flinch." Arthur chuckled as he handed him the apple.
"So, you’re a big Tiger fan?" "The biggest."
"Do you know when Tigers Stadium was built, or any of its history?" He scratched his head and thought for a moment. "Not really. I guess I mostly just know about the players.” "Then you’ll learn something right out of the gate." Lincoln focused all of his attention on Arthur. "Okay."
"Since we're starting our story in 1912, you should know that on April 20th of that year, Tiger Stadium, or Navin Field as it was called then, was built. Also, as a side note, Boston’s Fenway Park opened the exact same day."
"Cool."
Arthur paused to see if Lincoln was going to add to that profound statement. He didn't.
"Okay. Well then, let's get started."
4
Fort Worth, TX, July 1912
The Fort Worth Panthers seventeen-year-old second baseman Arthur Graham stood just outside of the batter's box and stared down the opposing team's pitcher, Ricky Klein. There were runners on first and second base, with one out in the seventh inning, and the score
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tied at two. Arthur's mind was racing as he tried to figure out what pitch he was about to see. He was 0 for 2 on the day, with two strikeouts. Both ended with a swing and a miss on a well-placed curveball. The count was currently 2-2, both strikes again on the curveball. "It's gotta be a curve," he whispered under his breath. He stared over at the umpire, who was standing there with his hands on his hips.
"Play ball," he screamed.
Arthur stepped back into the box and readied himself. He took a deep breath in through his nose and then exhaled through his mouth and stared back out at Klein. He was one for twelve against Klein this season. The one being a tactically placed bunt down the third base line in the two teams' first meeting of the year. Klein checked both runners and then set his sights on home plate. Arthur gripped the bat tight and prepared for the curve as Klein delivered the pitch. Fast ball. His timing was extremely late, but he managed to catch a small piece of the ball and foul it into the catcher's mitt. He looked back to see the catcher scramble to hold on to the ball, but it popped out of his mitt and onto the ground.
"Foul ball," the umpire screamed.
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped back out of the box and closed his eyes. He reminded himself that baseball was a game of inches. The home run was exciting, but a base hit here would produce a run and the lead. "Be a team player," he whispered as he stepped back into the box and got ready. Klein received the sign from his catcher and went into his windup. Arthur choked up on the bat and prepared for whatever was coming. Klein followed through and delivered another fastball that was headed for the lower outside corner of the plate when Arthur swung and connected. The ball jumped off his bat, sending a sharply hit line drive down the first base line just past the diving first baseman.
"Fair ball!" the umpire screamed as it went by them.
The Panthers' dugout erupted with cheers as everyone stood and watched as the three men started running around the bases. The right
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fielder chased the ball down and was scooping it into his glove as Arthur was rounding first base. In one beautifully crafted motion, he scooped it, popped up, and threw a bullet into second base. Arthur slid just as the ball was coming into the bag, and he felt his foot hit the base just before the infielder's glove tagged him.
"Safe!" the umpire screamed as he threw both hands out to his sides to drive home the point.
The home fans cheered as Arthur popped up from his slide with a smile on his face. He looked over to see the runner on third pumping his fist. He then shifted his stare toward the dugout, where his teammates were celebrating the runner who had just crossed home plate, giving his team a 3-2 lead. The next batter would go down on strikes, swinging at that lethal Klein curveball for the third out of the inning, but the score would hold up and the Panthers notched a 3-2 win on the heels of Arthur's two-out double.
After the game, he was collecting his gear when one of his teammates, Bob Schilling, came up and gave him a pat on the back.
"Way to hang in there, Artie. I thought for sure you were getting the curveball."
Arthur laughed, "You and me both. I scraped that thought process after he threw the heater on the pitch before and almost got me."
“Well, it was the right call.” He winked at him. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
Behind Schilling, there was an exaggerated throat clearing. Arthur watched as Schilling rolled his eyes and then took a step to his right. Standing behind him was a young lady wearing a white dress. Her hair was golden, and her eyes were bright blue. She smiled and walked toward him.
"I'm Esther. Pleased to meet you, Arthur." She extended her hand, and her smile grew wider.
She had the face and movements of an angel.
"The pleasure is all mine, Esther," he stated as he took her hand in his and held it.
They took a moment to stand in silence and stare at each other.
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Schilling cleared his throat and put his hand on her shoulder.
"We've got to get going, Esther. Great game, Arthur."
He gave them one more second before he physically pulled her hand from Arthur's and turned her around.
"Yeah, great game, Bob," Arthur finally got out as he continued to stare at her.
"Goodbye, it was nice meeting you," she stated as Schilling walked behind her and escorted her up the steps and out of the dugout.
"Nice meeting you, Esther."
He continued to stare in her direction until she was out of sight.
5
"Whoa! You played minor league baseball, Mr. Graham?" Lincoln asked, with a surprised look on his face.
Arthur laughed.
"I told you that you were going to like this story. How the heck did you know the Panthers were a minor league baseball team?" Lincoln smiled. "I told you I knew a lot about baseball." "Yeah, you did." Arthur smiled. "How old did you say you were?"
"Twelve."
"How did you learn about the minor leagues?" "Me and my dad like to go to the library. He reads about history, and I read about the history of baseball."
"That's nice. So how much do you know about the Detroit Tigers?" "I know a lot from 1953 on. That’s when Al Kaline started playing for them. He’s my dad's favorite player. I also know that they won the World Series the year I was born, in 1968."
"That's right. Do you know anything about all the great players that have played in Detroit?" He thought for a moment before he answered.
"I read about Ty Cobb, Al Kaline, Mickey Lolich, Bill Freehan, and know all the Tigers on the team now."
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“That’s a lot of talented players who wore the Old English D.” Arthur smiled. “You know I met Cobb and Kaline?”
"No fooling?" He asked in a high-pitched voice.
Arthur laughed. "No fooling."
“What was Al Kaline like?”
“He was an outstanding baseball player, and a gentleman to boot.” He smiled. “And Ty Cobb might be one of the very best all-around players to ever play the game.”
"Cool. Did you ever play with any of them?" "Let's not jump ahead in the story. We'll get to that eventually."
"Okay."
"I brought a ham and cheese sandwich. You want half?"
"Sure. Thanks Mr. Graham." He reached into the bag and pulled it out.
"You can thank Esther. She made it." As Lincoln took the sandwich from him, he paused and looked up at him. "The same Esther from the story?" "The one and only." "Cool." He took a bite. "How old was she when you met her?" "She was sixteen and beautiful."
"Wow! You guys have been together for a long time." "Married for sixty-five wonderful years."
"Whoa!"
"Whoa is right."
"You guys must really love each other." "We must. You got any girls in school or around the neighborhood you like?" Lincoln's face told him what he needed to know, but he added emphatically, "Gross! No way. Girls are the worst."
Arthur laughed. "In time, you'll feel differently." Lincoln took another big bite of his sandwich, but let his face continue to do the talking. "If you say so."
"Alright, where was I?"
12
6
Fort Worth, TX, October 1912
The Panthers finished the season at 59-81. In his first full season playing minor league baseball, Arthur was tested out at just about every position. The only positions he didn't play were catcher and third base. In 307 at-bats, he had 87 hits, which resulted in a respectable .284 batting average. Included in those hits, he had 2 home runs, 14 doubles, and 4 triples. He had 42 RBIs and stole 11 bases out of 13 attempts. He pitched in 14 games and held a record of 1-3 with 2 saves. His ERA was 4.2. The young man from Texas had caught the eye of a few scouts from the majors, but not enough to get a tryout. When the season ended, he did what most minor league ballplayers did back in 1912. He went back to his regular job.
Arthur started at Dillard's Hardware Store in July 1911. In June of that year, he had turned 16, and his father told him he needed to get a job. A job builds character. It gives one a sense of purpose, and it prepares them for independence. He stressed to Arthur that he needed to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. That he was no longer a boy and needed to think like a man. Arthur conveyed his love of baseball to his father. That he wanted to be a professional baseball player, and that he could make a decent living doing so. Both of his parents were always supportive of his dreams, so his father made him a deal. He asked that Arthur find a job for the summer, just to see what it was like to work a regular job and bring home a steady paycheck. If he still wanted to pursue his dream of playing baseball, then the following summer they would support that dream and help him out the best they could. That summer, he worked four to five days a week and thoroughly enjoyed his time at Dillard's. The owner, Jack Dillard, was like a second father to him. Between stocking shelves and cleaning the store, he and Mr. Dillard would throw the ball around whenever they got the chance. They
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talked baseball extensively, and whenever the time permitted, Jack and Arthur would take in a Texas League game together. Sometimes Arthur's father, Jim, would join them. Jim and Jack were deacons together at the local church, so his parents didn't mind Arthur spending so much time around Jack. At one of those games, Arthur spoke to the coach of the Fort Worth Panthers, who invited him to try out for the team in the spring. When school started back up in the fall, three days a week, he would go home, do his schoolwork, whatever chores he had to do, grab a quick bite to eat, and then head to Dillard's to work for a couple of hours.
When the spring of 1912 rolled around, Arthur got his tryout. Over a three-week period, he really impressed the coaches with his blend of speed, arm accuracy, and at-bats. They had lost three players from the year before, so they were looking to replace them with youth and talent. Given his great tryout, his age, and his already six-foot frame, they took a chance on him. The only problem is that they didn't know which position fit him best, so that summer they made him a utility player that they plugged in as needed. They gave him a fair wage, one that would allow him to focus just on playing ball, and they concentrated on finding a position that would be the perfect fit. They were very pleased with the season he had and invited him to play with the team the following year.
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"So, did you go back and play?" Lincoln asked.
Arthur looked over at him with a grimace on his face.
"Why so impatient? The purpose of the story is to enjoy the adventure. It's a long story, but a good one. I thought you might like the journey, but if you want me to just summarize it quickly and tell you the ending, I can." "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Graham. I just got excited because I didn't know
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you played professional baseball and rubbed elbows with some big names."
He gave him a pat on his knee.
"That's okay, son. I guess I understand that. It was only Texas League baseball, not quite professional. More of a Class B league. So, where was I?"
Before he could continue, the voice of Chris Fisher interrupted him.
"Lincoln, son, it's time to go." They both turned around to see him standing behind them. He made his way around them and to the front of the bench. He extended his hand to Arthur. "I'm Lincoln's father, Chris. It's nice to meet you, Pastor Graham." Arthur stood and shook his hand.
"It's very nice to meet you, Chris, but please call me Arthur."
"Okay, Arthur it is. I hope my boy didn't talk your ear off."
Arthur laughed. "Actually, I think I did most of the talking."
He looked over at Lincoln and smiled.
"Well, that would be a first." "Mr. Graham was just telling me about his baseball days." Lincoln responded. "Now that's something that will grab his attention," Chris remarked.
"He met Al Kaline, dad."
"Really. What was he like?" "He is a true gentleman. Are you a student of the game like our young Mr. Lincoln here?" Chris laughed.
"No, sir. These days I watch it when I have time and try to throw the ball around with Lincoln as often as I can, but I'm no student. There was a time I watched it regularly, but a wife and three kids later keep me busy these days." Arthur smiled. "I can understand that. Well, Lincoln here has a fine grasp of the game if you have questions." Chris chuckled, "Yeah, he fills me in on it most days." He looked over at Lincoln and smiled. "Well, you ready to go, sport? Jessica's supposed to call us in about an hour."
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Lincoln looked at Arthur. "That's my mom." Arthur laughed, "I figured. We'll pick this story up tomorrow when you get here." "Okay, Mr. Graham. See you tomorrow." Arthur shook Chris's hand again and bid them both a good night. He sat back down and threw the birds some more bread.
How long does a player have to wait before he gets called to a Major League Baseball team? That's the question catcher Arthur Graham wrestled with for years. The 40-year-old Rookie - A Major League Story of Perseverance and Faith, by Reese Barton, is Arthur's story of developing patience, overcoming pride, and accepting the timing of God.
In 1980, 85-year-old Arthur has retired from both baseball and his pastoral duties at a Michigan church. One summer day, Arthur is sitting on a bench outside the church courtyard, tossing bread crumbs to birds, a favorite activity. Lincoln Fisher, a 12-year-old boy, approaches him, looking for something to do while his father works on renovating the church. Their conversation turns to a shared love of America's favorite outdoor sport: baseball. In the days that follow, Arthur tells Lincoln his story of the decades-long road he traveled to attain his dream of playing Major League baseball.
Barton's novel features a series of chronological flashbacks. The story shifts from 1980 to 1912, with 17-year-old Arthur playing on the Fort Worth Panthers team in Texas. He meets his future wife, Esther, there. The fictional biography moves back and forth between Arthur's current life and his earlier years, with the climax of the 1935 World Series between the Chicago Cubs and the Detroit Tigers.
Barton's flashback technique builds excitement and anticipation for Lincoln and readers. They experience Arthur's joys and disappointments, wins and losses, and injuries to his body and pride. Each chapter shows how young Arthur's experiences shape the man he becomes. By telling his story game by game and year by year, Arthur teaches Lincoln to develop patience, show leadership, and observe how the love of God through Christ Jesus always works for good, even in times of pain and sorrow.
Avid baseball fans will relish the jargon and play-by-play descriptions of the games. Barton offers many dramatic moments in a style that enables readers to visualize the action, ending with the last World Series game. However, many passages run long and lack paragraph breaks, which might frustrate readers unfamiliar with America's favorite summer pastime.
The 40-year-old Rookie - A Major League Story of Perseverance and Faith by Reese Barton touches all three bases: faith, hope, and love, and scores a conclusion that will satisfy its readers.