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A False Spring: A Memoir
“One of the best and truest books about baseball, and about coming to maturity in America.” —Time
In the late 1950s, acclaimed sportswriter Pat Jordan was a young pitching phenom, blowing away opposing batters for his Fairfield, Connecticut, high school baseball team. Fifteen major league clubs offered him a contract, but it was the Milwaukee Braves who won out, signing Jordan to a $45,000 bonus—one of the largest paid to any new player by the organization—and shipping him off to McCook, Nebraska, to play for their Class D ball club.
It did not take long, however, for Jordan to realize he was out of his depth in professional baseball’s backwoods. He battled with inconsistency and a lack of control for three dismal seasons in such far-flung locales as Keokuk, Iowa, and Palatka, Florida, before the Braves released him and he gave up his dreams of big league greatness.
Declared “unforgettable” by the Los Angeles Times and “a major triumph” by the Philadelphia Inquirer, A False Spring is a powerful and deeply affecting memoir about the gift of athletic talent and the heartbreak of unfulfilled promise.
In the late 1950s, acclaimed sportswriter Pat Jordan was a young pitching phenom, blowing away opposing batters for his Fairfield, Connecticut, high school baseball team. Fifteen major league clubs offered him a contract, but it was the Milwaukee Braves who won out, signing Jordan to a $45,000 bonus—one of the largest paid to any new player by the organization—and shipping him off to McCook, Nebraska, to play for their Class D ball club.
It did not take long, however, for Jordan to realize he was out of his depth in professional baseball’s backwoods. He battled with inconsistency and a lack of control for three dismal seasons in such far-flung locales as Keokuk, Iowa, and Palatka, Florida, before the Braves released him and he gave up his dreams of big league greatness.
Declared “unforgettable” by the Los Angeles Times and “a major triumph” by the Philadelphia Inquirer, A False Spring is a powerful and deeply affecting memoir about the gift of athletic talent and the heartbreak of unfulfilled promise.
292 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1975
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 71 reviews
January 26, 2012
Jim Bouton has called "A False Spring" his favorite baseball book. That's pretty high praise, considering Bouton(author of "Ball Four") is a master of the genre. But Pat Jordan's brilliant memoir transcends the baseball theme, delving into deeper issues such as maturity and coming to grips with failure.
Jordan was a "can't-miss" pitching phenom in 1959, and was given a huge signing bonus right out of high school by the Milwaukee Braves. But he never made out it of the minor leagues as his talent mysteriously faded all too quickly.
Jordan let this experience germinate in his mind for about a decade before writing the book. Then, as an established writer and with bitingly honest self-perspective, he masterfully chronicles his own demise. His objectivity makes it seem at times as if he's writing about another person.
With the passage of time, Jordan clearly sees the arrogant youngster he was. And he deftly pokes fun at himself. The New York Yankees had already heard of him while he was just a Little-Leaguer and invited him and his parents as guests to Yankee Stadium. Bristling that he wasn't asked to show off his pitching, the young Jordan "sat there, glaring across the field at (Yankee star) Vic Raschi, warming up with his pathetic fastball."
Jordan's descriptive powers are immense. Here, he illustrates one of his minor league pitching coaches: "He wore horn-rimmed glasses and had thin lips always pressed so tightly together that a hundred tiny lines had formed like stitch marks around his mouth, which made him resemble a prissy, taciturn spinster."
And there is so much more vividly depicted in this book: small-town America in the late-'50s, racism, young love, and, yes, baseball.
But most gripping is Jordan's painful path to humility--a path that ultimately we all must take.
Jordan was a "can't-miss" pitching phenom in 1959, and was given a huge signing bonus right out of high school by the Milwaukee Braves. But he never made out it of the minor leagues as his talent mysteriously faded all too quickly.
Jordan let this experience germinate in his mind for about a decade before writing the book. Then, as an established writer and with bitingly honest self-perspective, he masterfully chronicles his own demise. His objectivity makes it seem at times as if he's writing about another person.
With the passage of time, Jordan clearly sees the arrogant youngster he was. And he deftly pokes fun at himself. The New York Yankees had already heard of him while he was just a Little-Leaguer and invited him and his parents as guests to Yankee Stadium. Bristling that he wasn't asked to show off his pitching, the young Jordan "sat there, glaring across the field at (Yankee star) Vic Raschi, warming up with his pathetic fastball."
Jordan's descriptive powers are immense. Here, he illustrates one of his minor league pitching coaches: "He wore horn-rimmed glasses and had thin lips always pressed so tightly together that a hundred tiny lines had formed like stitch marks around his mouth, which made him resemble a prissy, taciturn spinster."
And there is so much more vividly depicted in this book: small-town America in the late-'50s, racism, young love, and, yes, baseball.
But most gripping is Jordan's painful path to humility--a path that ultimately we all must take.
July 31, 2013
There's no redemption in this story and it is hard to feel much sympathy for Jordan. He may have sabotaged his career through indifference and immaturity, or he may have already been declining when the Braves signed him out of HS. There is no real explanation for why a teenager without an arm injury would lose a mighty fastball so quickly, and as Jordan seems to describe it, so mysteriously.
From a pure baseball standpoint, color me skeptical that this guy was ever a high level talent.
From a literary standpoint, Jordan is evocative and the reader really gets a sense of what playing in the minors was like in the late '50s/early '60s. To me, this book is kind of an unintentional companion piece to 'Ball Four' and I am not surprised Bouton liked it. The prose is vastly superior (if occasionally overwrought) and the story much less humorous, but Bouton and Jordan both write like detached, independent loners, guys who stand outside of the insularity of the baseball lifers.
From a pure baseball standpoint, color me skeptical that this guy was ever a high level talent.
From a literary standpoint, Jordan is evocative and the reader really gets a sense of what playing in the minors was like in the late '50s/early '60s. To me, this book is kind of an unintentional companion piece to 'Ball Four' and I am not surprised Bouton liked it. The prose is vastly superior (if occasionally overwrought) and the story much less humorous, but Bouton and Jordan both write like detached, independent loners, guys who stand outside of the insularity of the baseball lifers.
July 19, 2016
Pat Jordan writes the story of his life in baseball. And it’s short, covering just a few years! The reader is warned early on that Pat never makes it past the minor leagues. He shows promise, and becomes one of the first “bonus babies” in baseball, with an abnormally fast fastball. He goes through the Milwaukee Braves farm system for a few years, until he decides that phase of his life is over. While playing with these minor league teams, Jordan describes a boy who is trying to grow up. He’s full of attitude and fear, and he’s smart enough to try different personas in an attempt to “find himself”. Beyond that theme, the book also dives into the value of talent and the value of work. And family. You might think a baseball book would also be about teams, but that doesn’t really fit here – Jordan is singled out when in high school because of his talent, but becomes an outcast and a loner as he goes through his training. And he’s in the minors, where only a few will advance to the next level. And he’s a pitcher. ‘Nuf said.
I really loved this book. For one thing, Jordan plays for the Davenport (Iowa) Braves in 1960, and he describes the park and the town and the people very well. I grew up near Davenport, and their stadium was the same one where I attended minor league games about 25 years later, and I can understand what he was saying there – those are my people, and it is rare to find them written about with such feeling. (Not always positive feelings – there’s a grittiness that he captures that is still in downtown Davenport more than 50 years later.)
The next thing I loved about the book was that it wasn’t a typical baseball book. This was about Jordan playing baseball and trying to grow up. The baseball writing isn’t about the game, it’s about practice, it’s about pitching, it’s about sitting on the bench, it’s about finding a room for the season, it’s about admiring or hating the many coaches you meet. It’s about the life, not about the baseball. The writing is intense, filled with feelings, especially angst as Jordan loses This really put me off kilter as I read this, and it helped me understand more how Jordan as a teen felt throughout his story, looking for answers and not finding them.
I also enjoyed the appreciation Jordan the author in the 1970s shows to the coaches and players he met in the minors. He played with a lot of guys that became stars, and his descriptions showed personality that you don’t always see in this kind of non-fiction. Jordan lovingly describes many players, and often followed up by saying what became of them after their episode in his memoir. Unlike some baseball books, Jordan as he reflects actually tries to remember and document the players he played with, including guys that never played again, and those that died young. Reading this, you sense that he came to value the baseball people, the individuals, later in life. He didn’t when he was playing. And you feel that this book, written with such description, is Jordan’s way to repent for his youth, the chip on his shoulder, and his misspent talent.
I really loved this book. For one thing, Jordan plays for the Davenport (Iowa) Braves in 1960, and he describes the park and the town and the people very well. I grew up near Davenport, and their stadium was the same one where I attended minor league games about 25 years later, and I can understand what he was saying there – those are my people, and it is rare to find them written about with such feeling. (Not always positive feelings – there’s a grittiness that he captures that is still in downtown Davenport more than 50 years later.)
The next thing I loved about the book was that it wasn’t a typical baseball book. This was about Jordan playing baseball and trying to grow up. The baseball writing isn’t about the game, it’s about practice, it’s about pitching, it’s about sitting on the bench, it’s about finding a room for the season, it’s about admiring or hating the many coaches you meet. It’s about the life, not about the baseball. The writing is intense, filled with feelings, especially angst as Jordan loses This really put me off kilter as I read this, and it helped me understand more how Jordan as a teen felt throughout his story, looking for answers and not finding them.
I also enjoyed the appreciation Jordan the author in the 1970s shows to the coaches and players he met in the minors. He played with a lot of guys that became stars, and his descriptions showed personality that you don’t always see in this kind of non-fiction. Jordan lovingly describes many players, and often followed up by saying what became of them after their episode in his memoir. Unlike some baseball books, Jordan as he reflects actually tries to remember and document the players he played with, including guys that never played again, and those that died young. Reading this, you sense that he came to value the baseball people, the individuals, later in life. He didn’t when he was playing. And you feel that this book, written with such description, is Jordan’s way to repent for his youth, the chip on his shoulder, and his misspent talent.
April 22, 2013
This is probably the best baseball book I ever read. Of course, it goes deeper than baseball. Pat Jordan is a big bonus baby in the Milwaukee Braves organization with the blazing fastball and the big future ahead of him. The problem is, Jordan can't harness that talent to make his dream of reaching the Major Leagues. He's self-centered, arrogant and distant from everyone. We see Jordan from the time he is a hotshot high school pitcher groomed by an older brother. And then, reality sets in. Jordan is suddenly away from home for the first time - in McCook, Neb., pitching for a Class D team, the lowest rung on the minor league ladder, and not doing so well. And that's pretty much the way Jordan's career goes for the next few years - lonely minor league outposts, few pitching triumphs. Jordan's descriptions of some of the small towns and ballparks of these dots on the map are part of what I like about this book. It's also fun to read about some of the future Major League stars that Jordan plays with or against. He nearly gets into a fight with Joe Torre. His roommate in McCook is Ron Hunt. Another teammate is Phil Niekro. Some readers have criticized the book because Jordan is not a very likable character. It's true he exhibits plenty of boorish behavior as his focus to become a Major Leaguer is so all consuming. He screams at his coaches, fights with teammates. He shows no interest in the clubs he plays for. It's all about him. That said, I like the honesty of the writing. Jordan doesn't paint himself as a saint. Sure, maybe I wouldn't have wanted to hang out with the guy back in the late 1950s and early 1960s when he was struggling to control his fastball and fumbling at learning to become a man. Still, there are some real heart-felt sections of this book too. Midway through his minor league struggles, Jordan finds himself in Wisconsin. He's at the point where he's lost all confidence, and the team isn't even letting him pitch. He pleads to be given a chance, and when it doesn't happen, he jumps the team. He has a fling with a young woman in McCook. She wants to get to know the self-absorbed pitching prodigy a little better. But Jordan pushes her away. Jordan does have a girlfriend back home whom he eventually marries. We learn little if nothing about her, although we see her enduring the life of a baseball wife. Jordan rails at her, moving her to tears, when she doesn't have his supper ready after a game. Even if you can't root for this young pitcher, it's a book worth reading. Let's face it. We lose more than we win in life, and this story pounds that point home.
July 22, 2017
I am a bit disappointed because of how this book was hyped. It is very well written and holds nothing back. You have the feel of what it was like to play in the minors in 1960. The description of the towns, baseball accomodations, the tedium of the days, and the frustrations and tears of the rejected players is palpable in this story by Pat Jordan.
It is honest, gut revealing, but this reader could not feel for the highly touted pitcher for the Braves organization.His aloofness and indifference to others is so paramount that the reader cannot find a way to root for Jordan even at his lowest point in a Florida flop house with his wife.
True, Jordan bears his soul but there is barely an apology or regret. There seems to be no redemption.
I would have liked an epilogue which told us how he has evolved(if in fact he did). There is little to get uplifted about in this classic book.Maybe the idea is that the road is not worth taking.Or was the smallest details and moments of victory enough to justify those 3 years in the minors? I gave it 4 stars because it is one of the earliest and grittiest accounts of its nature
It is honest, gut revealing, but this reader could not feel for the highly touted pitcher for the Braves organization.His aloofness and indifference to others is so paramount that the reader cannot find a way to root for Jordan even at his lowest point in a Florida flop house with his wife.
True, Jordan bears his soul but there is barely an apology or regret. There seems to be no redemption.
I would have liked an epilogue which told us how he has evolved(if in fact he did). There is little to get uplifted about in this classic book.Maybe the idea is that the road is not worth taking.Or was the smallest details and moments of victory enough to justify those 3 years in the minors? I gave it 4 stars because it is one of the earliest and grittiest accounts of its nature
February 16, 2008
Pat Jordan's haunting depiction of a bonus baby's four year bus ride to limbo, from a cocky, fireballing high school senior to a washed up never was, playing out the string in the lowest rung of the Milwaukee Braves' minor league chain. His descriptions of life in bush league towns, with their empty coffee shops, seedy bars, deserted streets and family-run cathouses, evoke Edward Hopper far more than they do BULL DURHAM. The fun of seeing intimate portraits of titans from my Baseball fan's infancy (Joe Torre, Tony Oliva, Phil Niekro, Rico Carty) in the earliest stages of their illustrious careers (and of finding out that Ron Hunt, who for years held the Major League record for being hit by pitches, called every casual, older female acquaintance "Mom") is leavened by the sobering realization that for every one of the 750 players on Major League rosters, there are hundreds that are struggling to reach that exalted plateau, to say along with Crash Davis: "I was in the Show once...I was in the Show...best two weeks of my life..."
September 11, 2015
It started out with so much promise, but by the second chapter, I'd grown to loathe the narrator and found the entire thing to be an overly prose-y, jumbled account of this guy's failed attempts to prolong his minor league career. Then it just ends--both the career and the book--with a fizzle. I'd heard so many great things about this book, so this was incredibly disappointing.
May 23, 2010
Pat Jordan's account of his own rise and spectacular fall as a hard-throwing pitching prospect in the Milwaukee Braves minor league system during the early '60s has been touted as one of the best sports books of all time, and I thought there were parts of A False Spring that lived up to that billing: highlights include the vivid picture Jordan paints of the low-level minor league stadiums (and the tiny Midwestern towns in which they reside) and his description of his own affectations as a eager-to-please young hotshot.
You get the impression that Jordan fancies himself a sort of young F. Scott Fitzgerald, if Fitzgerald were good at sports (the narrative voice in A False Spring is as reminiscent of Nick Carraway as it is anything), and the result is that the writing can be a bit overwrought--overly descriptive at times and quite often painfully self-aware to the point of discomfort. Still, I appreciate the memoir's ambitiousness, and, as a raw and incisive depiction of the hidden world underneath the glamor and eight figure contracts of the Major Leagues, it's pretty indispensable.
You get the impression that Jordan fancies himself a sort of young F. Scott Fitzgerald, if Fitzgerald were good at sports (the narrative voice in A False Spring is as reminiscent of Nick Carraway as it is anything), and the result is that the writing can be a bit overwrought--overly descriptive at times and quite often painfully self-aware to the point of discomfort. Still, I appreciate the memoir's ambitiousness, and, as a raw and incisive depiction of the hidden world underneath the glamor and eight figure contracts of the Major Leagues, it's pretty indispensable.
July 7, 2011
Pat Jordan was a baseball bonus baby who had a world of potential but who never made it to the bigs. That's the bad news. The good news is that he became a writer, and a pretty good one, as this book testifies.
"I had no desire to fight Joe Torre, who at 19 already had the looks and attitude of a 30-year-old veteran. Joe was fat then, over 220 pounds, and his unbelievably dark skin and black brows were frightening. He looked like a fierce Bedouin tribesman whose distrust for everything could be read in the shifting whites of his eyes."
Anyone who remembers Joe Torre from his playing days or even from his early years managing the Yankees (before he mellowed out some) will recognize the truth of that description. I read it to my wife over 10 years ago and she remembers it and refers to Joe Torre as "the brooding Bedouin" when she sees him on television.
Besides baseball, there's a lot about families, success, failure, and growing up in this book. I lost interest in baseball except as a form of entertainment when all of the steroid scandals broke, and got rid of a lot of my baseball books. This is one of the very few that I've kept.
"I had no desire to fight Joe Torre, who at 19 already had the looks and attitude of a 30-year-old veteran. Joe was fat then, over 220 pounds, and his unbelievably dark skin and black brows were frightening. He looked like a fierce Bedouin tribesman whose distrust for everything could be read in the shifting whites of his eyes."
Anyone who remembers Joe Torre from his playing days or even from his early years managing the Yankees (before he mellowed out some) will recognize the truth of that description. I read it to my wife over 10 years ago and she remembers it and refers to Joe Torre as "the brooding Bedouin" when she sees him on television.
Besides baseball, there's a lot about families, success, failure, and growing up in this book. I lost interest in baseball except as a form of entertainment when all of the steroid scandals broke, and got rid of a lot of my baseball books. This is one of the very few that I've kept.
May 30, 2008
Sad, honest book about failure as a minor league pitcher. The memoir never really gets as far inside either the younger pitcher or the current author's head as I'd like. There's a series of events, but little meaning. While that may be the way life is, it's not satisfying.
March 11, 2010
Men that love sports (particularly baseball) will love this.
May 10, 2013
Not just my favorite baseball book, but possibly my favorite book of any type.
April 24, 2021
What a great book! Really enjoyed Pat's writing. His look back on his relatively short minor league career was done with fantastic details, honesty, and maturity. Such a treat to read sports books about the lower pro levels. They always seem much more interesting. More about the journey vs the stats, etc.
It's a must read if you love sports books/biographies.
It's a must read if you love sports books/biographies.
July 10, 2017
Just finished this ever praised baseball book. A good read, but not high on my baseball book mush read list. First of its kind, but there are so many that are much better. See Dirk Hayhurst's Bullpen Gospels for one of the best baseball books.
September 25, 2018
Pat Jordan played 3 years of minor league baseball and he mines a lot of narrative into those 3 years. This is a reflection written more than a decade after the author failed to become the baseball star he was born to become. His million dollar arm lets him down not through injury but through mechanics. His troubles really began in high school when he started trying to overpower hitters for the sake of the scouts and lost touch with his dominance. The more pressure he had on himself in the minors the worse his pitching became. At times he was brilliant, but he was usually walking 8 and striking out 10.
The book has much insight on the life of a minor leaguer. The player's life is one big waiting room between games which must be even worse on a pitcher that only plays every 4th day. The one movie theater in town is only open during the hours they are playing a game. Maybe out of boredom he cheats on his girlfriend. His description of the event lacks the kind of regret you'd expect considering he is now married to the wronged woman. In that way you wonder if the author had even grown up by age 30.
Pat Jordan also struggles with whether he can't fit in with the other players or whether he doesn't want to fit in. This alienation hurts him with the coaches as does his temper when he thinks he's impressing them. He takes the wrong advice not because he believes in it but he wants to gain favor with authority figures. He blames this pattern more so than anything else for his struggles and career failure. The road of regrets and the path of success not taken.
I should say though that all of these things make the book seem overly serious when it's actually humorous and insightful without being dark or brooding. It's a breeze to read early on. It's only with time that you start to feel the weight he's under. He shares a lot of teammate quirks and future baseball stars Rico Carty, Phil Niekro, and Joe Torre make appearances.
I've been reading baseball books since my teenage years and this must be some sort of lost classic because I had only recently heard of it and it's great in both subject and execution.
The book has much insight on the life of a minor leaguer. The player's life is one big waiting room between games which must be even worse on a pitcher that only plays every 4th day. The one movie theater in town is only open during the hours they are playing a game. Maybe out of boredom he cheats on his girlfriend. His description of the event lacks the kind of regret you'd expect considering he is now married to the wronged woman. In that way you wonder if the author had even grown up by age 30.
Pat Jordan also struggles with whether he can't fit in with the other players or whether he doesn't want to fit in. This alienation hurts him with the coaches as does his temper when he thinks he's impressing them. He takes the wrong advice not because he believes in it but he wants to gain favor with authority figures. He blames this pattern more so than anything else for his struggles and career failure. The road of regrets and the path of success not taken.
I should say though that all of these things make the book seem overly serious when it's actually humorous and insightful without being dark or brooding. It's a breeze to read early on. It's only with time that you start to feel the weight he's under. He shares a lot of teammate quirks and future baseball stars Rico Carty, Phil Niekro, and Joe Torre make appearances.
I've been reading baseball books since my teenage years and this must be some sort of lost classic because I had only recently heard of it and it's great in both subject and execution.
May 13, 2008
"I had neither the patience nor the vision to develop a strip of moments into a successful season much less a satisfying career. My career was no aesthetically well-made movie-rising action, climax, denouement. It was a box strewn with unnumbered slides. A box of pure and frozen moments through which I have been sorting, picking up a moment here, a moment there, holding them to the light, seeing previously undefined details, numbering that moment, then putting it with all the others in some order which, I hope, will eventually produce a scenario of my career. But this process goes against my grain. I still prefer moments." p.169
I first read Pat Jordan during his now infamous "Jose Canseco is doomed article", I envisioned him some sort of hard-ass. However for all the self-inflicted claims that he's short-tempered and un-interested he's one of the best sports writers I've ever read.
Though this memoir details the minor leagues of the early 60's there are aspects of baseball, socially, that seem applicable today:
"Most American players treat Latins (often the first foreigners they have ever met) in such a condescending way because of their belief that deficiencies in the English language imply other intellectual shortcomings. For certain sensitive Latins this condescension is a constant irritation that leads to a moodiness which only reinforces the Americans' belief that all Latins are overgrown children."
A lot of this book concerns lonely young men in empty towns. Quiet cups of coffee in the only diner in town. Dressed in uniform to watch games you won't play in that night. And failure, the failure of money as the one and only motivator. What do get when you mix loneliness and failure in a desolate landscape?
These are the bonus babies that didn't pan out.
I first read Pat Jordan during his now infamous "Jose Canseco is doomed article", I envisioned him some sort of hard-ass. However for all the self-inflicted claims that he's short-tempered and un-interested he's one of the best sports writers I've ever read.
Though this memoir details the minor leagues of the early 60's there are aspects of baseball, socially, that seem applicable today:
"Most American players treat Latins (often the first foreigners they have ever met) in such a condescending way because of their belief that deficiencies in the English language imply other intellectual shortcomings. For certain sensitive Latins this condescension is a constant irritation that leads to a moodiness which only reinforces the Americans' belief that all Latins are overgrown children."
A lot of this book concerns lonely young men in empty towns. Quiet cups of coffee in the only diner in town. Dressed in uniform to watch games you won't play in that night. And failure, the failure of money as the one and only motivator. What do get when you mix loneliness and failure in a desolate landscape?
These are the bonus babies that didn't pan out.
June 4, 2021
I thought I'd read all the great baseball books and that there wasn't much more that could be said. But this book joins the pantheon. It's a memoir, a confession, an opening of the vein on his wrist and a request that every person he ever insulted come up and pour salt into the wound.
Anyone who thinks that the confessional memoir was started in the Instagram era, open up this book. Awkward first sex, an even more awkward 10 minutes with a prostitute, tears in a baseball dugout, anger everywhere, and lots of aimless drinking. That's compressed into a 2-year period when the author was 18 and 19 years old and stuck in the lowest minor leagues in baseball. Not like my late-teen years.
The story begins with the back-story. Pat Jordan grew up in Connecticut, and he was a star pitcher as a kid and through high school. With his brother's urging and coaching, he excelled to the point that he received bonus offers from several major league teams in the late 1950s. After some botched negotiations, he settled on a deal with the Milwaukee Braves (prior to their move to Atlanta), which was one one of the best teams in baseball. So far, so good. Not much trauma, and a reasonable amount of promise and a heavy dose of arrogance.
Jordan was assigned to their rookie league, and the tale begins its slow decline and then rapid, almost horror-movie collapse. He pitches badly game after game because he walks too many batters. He has amazing games of 7 innings, 12 strikeouts and 9 walks -- over and over again. Fans boo him, teammates get angry that he's keeping them on the field endlessly, and managers don't even try to help him figure out his pitching mechanics. All he does is just try to throw harder and harder.
All the while, he's sinking into a depression or maybe just the maturation that an 18-year-old should be allowed to undergo in less stressful conditions. He wanders deserted streets of empty towns at night. He drinks 5, 6, 10 beers a night. He glowers at teammates, opponents, his landlady. He stalks waitresses and other girls, despite having the love of his life waiting for him in Connecticut.
And it goes on and on until a "false spring" in which he pitched well with careful coaching. But that is followed a few months later by an utter collapse, when he feels like he's literally forgotten how to pitch. In one outing, he faces 12 batters, and they all reach base. Players are laughing at him. And he quits, only to be convinced to return for a two depressing months in Palatka, Florida, in order to earn his bonus payment. In retrospect, Jordan writes that the new pitching style he adopted in that false spring led him to bad habits that he couldn't undo, and so he both lost the control of that spring and the speed of his prior style that had brought him to the minors in the first place.
That's the sad story. Fortunately, it has a happy ending, as Jordan's bonus included money for college, which he put to use by learning to be a journalist and writer. And he's had huge success, with "False Spring" as his breakout book, but other successes to follow. But none of that is in this book and, in fact, wasn't known to him at the time he wrote it. This book is a cry in the wilderness, his effort to escape from purgatory.
A few random observations. 1. The book's events occurred mostly in 1959-1960, which was the end of an era in baseball. Each major league team in those days had a half-dozen minor league teams, and the routine was for players to work their way up over the years. Things are more streamlined now, and so the Class D and Class C experience of which he writes doesn't exist now. There are similarities to today, and he does a great job of evoking them: endless bus rides, boredom between games, the energy of 20-year-old men who play a game for a living. Jordan tells you about the battered stadiums or the enthusiastic or indifferent fans (depending on city), or the coaches who cared only about the players who were doing well, or the sexual jokes in the clubhouse.
2. This was a segregated world, and Jordan gives numerous examples, both of things he saw and things he heard. He writes of players such as Hank Aaron and what they went through playing in the South in the minors, and how Aaron's coach tried to protect him. Jordan also writes about white men in a boarding house being served sumptuous dinners by a crew of black women in starched dresses, and of seeing unpainted shacks for Blacks just a down the road from the office towers of Atlanta.
3. But at the same time, Jordan falls prey to some of the same racist thinking of his time. (Remember this book is 60 years old.) Example: He observes, but doesn't seem to care, that the Black and Latin American players had to live in inferior accommodations in the minor league towns because they weren't allowed to live in the white parts of town. Example: He says Hank Aaron started his baseball career as an 18-year-old in the Sally League. Actually, Aaron started his career as a 17-year-old in the Negro Leagues, but a white person of Jordan's time didn't consider that "real" baseball. I'm sure he thinks differently now.
4. The descriptions of women are cringy and awkward and surprisingly crude and misogynistic at times. This is even though Jordan surely didn't even include his worst thoughts for the book. Each woman is rated on her face and figure, and Jordan speculates on how she will look as she ages. Most of them don't meet muster, so here he is writing about how ugly and lonely a waitress in Keokuk, Iowa is; this is a real person, though perhaps her real name isn't used. Interestingly, the only woman not described physically is his wife, who perhaps wouldn't allow it. I haven't looked this up, but I'm betting they didn't stay married, despite their 5 kids in their first 7 years together. Who would want to stay married to this guy?
5. In the tradition of great baseball books, this has funny anecdotes and brief summaries of various players he encountered over the years. The third baseman who couldn't field but was eager to run onto the field every inning. The shortstop who threw a ball into the stands at hecklers. What it was like to get into a fight with Joe Torre. What it feels like to strike out a guy on three pitches. Jordan reels these off succintly and with more than a ring of truth.
6. Finally, this is mostly a sad book. A career that never took off. A man who blew the chance at friendships for most of his brief minor league career. An angry youth who couldn't figure out what went wrong. A lost boy who spent his 20s trying to come up with enough money to keep his wife and 5 kids housed and fed. And a man who still believes that he had more natural talent than most of the players who succeeded.
Anyone who thinks that the confessional memoir was started in the Instagram era, open up this book. Awkward first sex, an even more awkward 10 minutes with a prostitute, tears in a baseball dugout, anger everywhere, and lots of aimless drinking. That's compressed into a 2-year period when the author was 18 and 19 years old and stuck in the lowest minor leagues in baseball. Not like my late-teen years.
The story begins with the back-story. Pat Jordan grew up in Connecticut, and he was a star pitcher as a kid and through high school. With his brother's urging and coaching, he excelled to the point that he received bonus offers from several major league teams in the late 1950s. After some botched negotiations, he settled on a deal with the Milwaukee Braves (prior to their move to Atlanta), which was one one of the best teams in baseball. So far, so good. Not much trauma, and a reasonable amount of promise and a heavy dose of arrogance.
Jordan was assigned to their rookie league, and the tale begins its slow decline and then rapid, almost horror-movie collapse. He pitches badly game after game because he walks too many batters. He has amazing games of 7 innings, 12 strikeouts and 9 walks -- over and over again. Fans boo him, teammates get angry that he's keeping them on the field endlessly, and managers don't even try to help him figure out his pitching mechanics. All he does is just try to throw harder and harder.
All the while, he's sinking into a depression or maybe just the maturation that an 18-year-old should be allowed to undergo in less stressful conditions. He wanders deserted streets of empty towns at night. He drinks 5, 6, 10 beers a night. He glowers at teammates, opponents, his landlady. He stalks waitresses and other girls, despite having the love of his life waiting for him in Connecticut.
And it goes on and on until a "false spring" in which he pitched well with careful coaching. But that is followed a few months later by an utter collapse, when he feels like he's literally forgotten how to pitch. In one outing, he faces 12 batters, and they all reach base. Players are laughing at him. And he quits, only to be convinced to return for a two depressing months in Palatka, Florida, in order to earn his bonus payment. In retrospect, Jordan writes that the new pitching style he adopted in that false spring led him to bad habits that he couldn't undo, and so he both lost the control of that spring and the speed of his prior style that had brought him to the minors in the first place.
That's the sad story. Fortunately, it has a happy ending, as Jordan's bonus included money for college, which he put to use by learning to be a journalist and writer. And he's had huge success, with "False Spring" as his breakout book, but other successes to follow. But none of that is in this book and, in fact, wasn't known to him at the time he wrote it. This book is a cry in the wilderness, his effort to escape from purgatory.
A few random observations. 1. The book's events occurred mostly in 1959-1960, which was the end of an era in baseball. Each major league team in those days had a half-dozen minor league teams, and the routine was for players to work their way up over the years. Things are more streamlined now, and so the Class D and Class C experience of which he writes doesn't exist now. There are similarities to today, and he does a great job of evoking them: endless bus rides, boredom between games, the energy of 20-year-old men who play a game for a living. Jordan tells you about the battered stadiums or the enthusiastic or indifferent fans (depending on city), or the coaches who cared only about the players who were doing well, or the sexual jokes in the clubhouse.
2. This was a segregated world, and Jordan gives numerous examples, both of things he saw and things he heard. He writes of players such as Hank Aaron and what they went through playing in the South in the minors, and how Aaron's coach tried to protect him. Jordan also writes about white men in a boarding house being served sumptuous dinners by a crew of black women in starched dresses, and of seeing unpainted shacks for Blacks just a down the road from the office towers of Atlanta.
3. But at the same time, Jordan falls prey to some of the same racist thinking of his time. (Remember this book is 60 years old.) Example: He observes, but doesn't seem to care, that the Black and Latin American players had to live in inferior accommodations in the minor league towns because they weren't allowed to live in the white parts of town. Example: He says Hank Aaron started his baseball career as an 18-year-old in the Sally League. Actually, Aaron started his career as a 17-year-old in the Negro Leagues, but a white person of Jordan's time didn't consider that "real" baseball. I'm sure he thinks differently now.
4. The descriptions of women are cringy and awkward and surprisingly crude and misogynistic at times. This is even though Jordan surely didn't even include his worst thoughts for the book. Each woman is rated on her face and figure, and Jordan speculates on how she will look as she ages. Most of them don't meet muster, so here he is writing about how ugly and lonely a waitress in Keokuk, Iowa is; this is a real person, though perhaps her real name isn't used. Interestingly, the only woman not described physically is his wife, who perhaps wouldn't allow it. I haven't looked this up, but I'm betting they didn't stay married, despite their 5 kids in their first 7 years together. Who would want to stay married to this guy?
5. In the tradition of great baseball books, this has funny anecdotes and brief summaries of various players he encountered over the years. The third baseman who couldn't field but was eager to run onto the field every inning. The shortstop who threw a ball into the stands at hecklers. What it was like to get into a fight with Joe Torre. What it feels like to strike out a guy on three pitches. Jordan reels these off succintly and with more than a ring of truth.
6. Finally, this is mostly a sad book. A career that never took off. A man who blew the chance at friendships for most of his brief minor league career. An angry youth who couldn't figure out what went wrong. A lost boy who spent his 20s trying to come up with enough money to keep his wife and 5 kids housed and fed. And a man who still believes that he had more natural talent than most of the players who succeeded.
April 9, 2013
Pat Jordan's autobiography 'False Spring' is a
compelling, well-written story. If nothing else,
it is a great time capsule of small town, minor
league baseball in the early 1960s.
Jordan wrote the book when he was about 31 years old,
(published 1973) 10 or so years after he left the minor
league system. He describes himself, and most of his
teammates, as the source of the stereo-type - 'dumb jock'.
It is impressive that over those short years he developed
the maturity to see how silly and shortsighted are many
of the things that 18 year olds do.
Baseball fans of the '60-70s will enjoy the 'name-dropping'
Jordan does through his journey of many teammates. You get
a glimpse at the early careers many players that went on
to be pros (and many more that don't). Additionally, most of
the coaches were veteran players from the '30s-50s, so there
is a view into old(er) school baseball too.
He spends a few extra pages on Rico Carty and Joe Torre
as they were stars at the time the book was published,
thus more interest, and sell more books. The Torre
insights prove even more valuable, as of course he went
on to a long baseball and coaching career particularly with
the Yankees.
Jordan is not quite as vindictive towards baseball as
Jim Bouton is in 'Ball Four', but they do share the
perception that most coaches are blithering idiots.
There was an extra interest for me in one story as he
mentions some local (for me) baseball lore, a teammate,
promising young pitcher Jerry Hummitzsch, who was killed
in a car accident when he was a member for the Austin
(Texas) Braves.
'False Spring' is a great read. It's a story just
as much about learning about life as it is about baseball.
March 25, 2015
I don't know why this book hit me. The dreams denied, as happens to most baseball players? The constant travel between cities, walking around without much to do; meeting new people but standing a bit apart? Maybe the character sketches, like the scout who looked like a weasel, but was actually honest. Or the abrupt biographies of people like Lois Steinecke, "Word also got around that Lois Steinecke, our manager’s daughter, had promptly fallen in love with Cullum. I remember seeing her once after I’d heard that rumor and wondering just what Cullum saw in such a plain-faced girl. Of course, I never noticed her spectacular body at the time, nor was I aware of her impressive I.Q. and disposition so gentle as to draw anyone. They carried on their romance throughout his minor league career, and often Lois would appear in Boise, Eau Claire, or Davenport, just to be with Ken for a short time. Never during those years did she make the slightest demand on him. Finally, sensing he would not marry her, she left for South America one day, where she taught English to Indian Children."
How, looking back, the writer can see in specific detail what an idiot he was.
Pat Jordan and I are different people, with different flaws and careers. But an honest biography somehow lets me relate to almost everything he did.
How, looking back, the writer can see in specific detail what an idiot he was.
Pat Jordan and I are different people, with different flaws and careers. But an honest biography somehow lets me relate to almost everything he did.
October 7, 2009
Probably the best sports book I've ever read and I don't make this claim lightly. False Spring is a kind of miracle of self-awareness. The much praised classic book, "Ball Four" by Jim Bouton is justly lauded but Bouton happens to be a charming self-righteous asshole. He probably still believes that he should have had a longer career in the majors. His book is funny, biting, observant and boorish in an exhausting way. He must be the most annoying dude in the world. . .all his books reveal these self-important blowhard character flaws. Whatever - Bouton brought a kind of tabloid "honesty" to sports journalism that was probably needed. There are countless reasons why professional athletics and athletes should not be championed or celebrated - they are at worst a gigantic fraud foisted upon an unsuspecting public and maybe at best a nice metaphor for not giving up on da game of life. . .
Anyway - this is a long preface to say that this is a must read for fans of sports memoirs that transcend the bullshit we've come to expect from them. It's a cliche but this dog is about lyfe - the big picture stuff that you sometimes don't wanna think about. . .
Check it out. . .and Pat Jordan is still alive and answers his email within like 10 seconds. . .so that's some heavy shit too.
Anyway - this is a long preface to say that this is a must read for fans of sports memoirs that transcend the bullshit we've come to expect from them. It's a cliche but this dog is about lyfe - the big picture stuff that you sometimes don't wanna think about. . .
Check it out. . .and Pat Jordan is still alive and answers his email within like 10 seconds. . .so that's some heavy shit too.
May 21, 2012
This is a terrific memoir. The author was a highly regarded pitching prospect for the Milwaukee Braves in the late 1950's, and this is the story of his first season away from home in the minor leagues. It is not a breezy tale. It is realistic, clear-eyed, and emotionally honest -- the author does not sugar-coat his own shortcomings. The flat, clear, hard language somehow evokes the small midwestern town where the story takes place, and there is a pervasive sense of longing and loneliness in the narrative, for is "minor league" not a natural metaphor for falling short? I read this years ago, and still remember descriptions of fans, players, and coaches -- though not of baseball action. The manager's eyes when he smiled at an old gal with whom he used to dally shone "like little blue peas." "Can't cut the mustard you old fart," she tells him. "Not with an old piece of meat like you," he retorts -- then tells his young charges with a gleam in his eye what a fine lay she was back in the day. Incredibly, in this and other interpersonal encounters that is a rough tenderness that is moving. One of the best non-renowned books I've read, a winning memoir from long before memoirs were the rage.
January 21, 2013
Yo pensaba que el libro una primavera falsa por Pat Jordan fue una muy exacta de la imagen de la vida de un atleta sin éxito. Es cada niño de un sueño a ser un jugador profesional de deportes, y Pat Jordan realmente tiene el potencial de convertirse en uno. Pero entonces empezó a tratar de difícil convencer a los scouts y perdió todo su control. Esto demuestra lo que pasa cuando se intenta muy difícil hacer una buena impresión. Realmente me sentí conectado a los personajes y realmente me sentí mal por Pat. También me gustó el béisbol aspecto del libro; había mucho béisbol detalles.
Translation: I thought that the book A False Spring by Pat Jordan was a very accurate portrayal of life for an unsuccessful athlete. It is every young child's dream to be a professional sports player, and Pat Jordan actually had the potential to become one. But then he began trying to hard to impress the scouts and he lost all of his control. This shows what happens when you try too hard to make a good impression. I really felt connected to the characters and I really felt bad for Pat. I also really liked the baseball aspect of the book; it had a lot of baseball details.
Translation: I thought that the book A False Spring by Pat Jordan was a very accurate portrayal of life for an unsuccessful athlete. It is every young child's dream to be a professional sports player, and Pat Jordan actually had the potential to become one. But then he began trying to hard to impress the scouts and he lost all of his control. This shows what happens when you try too hard to make a good impression. I really felt connected to the characters and I really felt bad for Pat. I also really liked the baseball aspect of the book; it had a lot of baseball details.
March 7, 2014
I am rarely moved to write a review of a book as I am not quite sure that anyone wants to know what I think. However, I thought that this particular tale merited a few words. Here, Pat Jordan has attempted to conduct an autopsy on his once promising baseball career. Jordan was a minor league pitcher in the Milwaukee Braves' farm system who could throw the ball hard. This mere fact alone was supposed to have been his ticket to fame and stardom but as he soon learns, it was not enough.
Jordan is not a baseball player who wrote a book. Instead, he is a writer who once had a baseball career and this book is a triumph of introspection and self awareness. I am glad that Jordan never made it to the big leagues because I doubt that this book would have been written otherwise. The story here sort of wanders aimlessly through small towns full of people with nothing to do and nowhere to go and I suspect that this aimlessness is the point.
Jordan is not a baseball player who wrote a book. Instead, he is a writer who once had a baseball career and this book is a triumph of introspection and self awareness. I am glad that Jordan never made it to the big leagues because I doubt that this book would have been written otherwise. The story here sort of wanders aimlessly through small towns full of people with nothing to do and nowhere to go and I suspect that this aimlessness is the point.
June 28, 2025
depressing, profound, and reflective piece of writing. Jordan is not particularly sympathetic to the reader, but at a certain point you feel bad about all the promise and hype he had. He makes certain decisions that you just can’t help but shake your head in response.
The writing is excellent and makes up for a less than compelling story. The philosophical and reflective aspects proved much more interesting than the baseball parts.
“Those who had gone away had learned, many for the first time, how to lose. And what they’d lost was the first, the purest and the most precious dream they would ever have. They’d lost perpetual youth, innocence, the dream of playing a little boys’ game for the rest of their lives.”
The writing is excellent and makes up for a less than compelling story. The philosophical and reflective aspects proved much more interesting than the baseball parts.
“Those who had gone away had learned, many for the first time, how to lose. And what they’d lost was the first, the purest and the most precious dream they would ever have. They’d lost perpetual youth, innocence, the dream of playing a little boys’ game for the rest of their lives.”
March 3, 2009
Baseball fan or not most readers will be able to appreciate the story of a dream lost. This memoir describes the trail of a "can't miss" pitching prospect who eventually flounders in the minor leagues.
Combine this book the the authors "A Nice Tuesday" written decades later and you will have a picture of how life may not always turn out like we thought at the age of 16 but some of those turns can work out pretty well.
Combine this book the the authors "A Nice Tuesday" written decades later and you will have a picture of how life may not always turn out like we thought at the age of 16 but some of those turns can work out pretty well.
December 3, 2008
Very honest recollection of failure. It likes the polish of some of his later sports writing, but it's a good read for anyone who would like to avoid 'sacrificing at the alter of bland mediocrity their talent.' That's a terrible paraphrase from one of the books better lines, but what can I say, SJ Library's got it back.
May 18, 2012
This is one of the best sports books I have read. Pat Jordan writes about his potential and his failure as a baseball pitcher. His descriptions of the minor league baseball games is very good. His encounters with several players who do achieve major league success, Joe Torre, Rico Carty and Phil Niekro adds depth to his story.
October 12, 2012
I read an interview once where the author said he wrote this memoir shortly after his baseball career ended, but the publisher rejected it because it was way too bitter. This one has the right balance of distance and immediacy. My favorite baseball book. He later wrote another memoir, A Nice Tuesday, I couldn't get past chapter one.
September 25, 2015
I'm a sucker for true-life baseball books. Loved Jim Brosnan's books and Jim Bouton's. (Hey, I need to add them to the 'read' list). This one was a bit different because Jordan never made it, but plenty interesting anyway. The minor leagues have their own magic anyway, don't they, Bull Durham?
February 28, 2017
A decently sized novel about a young baseball pitcher with an attitude trying to make his way to the big leagues. The detail that Pat writes with goes a bit too extreme at times, but overall, this is a good story about the route to the majors and how good to need to be to get there.
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