The origin of fair and foul balls

Baseball historians continue to poke around in the 19th century to better explain how the game was originated and developed, but I've always wondered if one of

Frank Deford | Jun 13, 2012

The origin of fair and foul balls /

Baseball historians continue to poke around in the 19th century to better explain how the game was originated and developed, but I've always wondered if one of the prime movers was a student of Shakespeare.

While I certainly don't know the terminology of all ball games, the popular ones I'm aware of -- everything from basketball and football to golf and tennis -- all use some variations of the words in and out when determining whether the ball is playable.

Only baseball is different.

"Fair is foul and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air."

Ah, some of the first words spoken together by the Three Witches. And soon here the title character arrives -- "A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come!"

And what are the very first words he utters?

"So foul and fair a day I have not seen."

Thus, though there is fair play and fouls committed in other sports, only baseball is laid out by the Bard -- not with in-bounds and out-of-bounds, but with fair or foul territory. Ah, and it's just as confusing as the witches' drone, for any ball that hits a foul line or a foul pole is, of course, fair.

And, let's face it: We enjoy foul balls. Foul balls were way ahead of their time. In an entertainment world today that prizes interaction, foul balls were the first real interactive agency in sport.

Every kid who goes to a baseball game dreams that he's going to snag a foul ball. Of all the things in life that a father can do to gain the admiration of a child, it is foremost to catch a foul ball and then hand the prize over. Rex Barney, the old pitcher who became public address announcer for the Orioles, used to cry into the PA: "Give that fan a contract!" Ernie Harwell, the beloved Tigers play-by-play man, used to declare things like, "Foul ball into the upper deck -- caught by a fan from Saginaw." Or Kalamazoo. Or Hamtramck. Whatever.

Ernie made up the foul-ball catchers for decades, and it never grew old.

We love watching fans making bizarre catches of foul balls. Last year, a guy at Fenway Park had a foul ball bounce right into his beer cup. I'll bet that clip has been shown more than all the clips of the Red Sox hitting fair balls all season long.

Foul balls are really primeval, aren't they? Who would ever imagine a game where the spectators get to keep the very thing the players are playing with? Good grief, the NFL puts up nets to make sure nobody gets to keep its precious extra-point pigskins. What a bunch of party poopers.

No, whoever made baseball fair and foul instead of in and out was giving Macbeth a sixth act. Yes, in the more literal sense, a foul ball is just a let serve, a false start, a delay of game -- ah, it is full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

But, no. Although it's really goofy, it's only fair to say that we all like foul balls.

Published Jun 13, 2012

FRANK DEFORD

Frank Deford is among the most versatile of American writers. His work has appeared in virtually every medium, including print, where he has written eloquently for Sports Illustrated since 1962. Deford is currently the magazine's Senior Contributing Writer and contributes a weekly column to SI.com. Deford can be heard as a commentator each week on Morning Edition. On television he is a regular correspondent on the HBO show Real Sports With Bryant Gumbel. He is the author of 15 books, and his latest,The Enitled, a novel about celebrity, sex and baseball, was published in 2007 to exceptional reviews. He and Red Smith are the only writers with multiple features in The Best American Sports Writing of the Century. Editor David Halberstam selected Deford's 1981 Sports Illustrated profile on Bobby Knight (The Rabbit Hunter) and his 1985 SI profile of boxer Billy Conn (The Boxer and the Blonde) for that prestigious anthology. For Deford the comparison is meaningful. "Red Smith was the finest columnist, and I mean not just sports columnist," Deford told Powell's Books in 2007. "I've always said that Red is like Vermeer, with those tiny, priceless pieces. Five hundred words, perfectly chosen, crafted. Best literary columnist, in any newspaper, that I've ever seen." Deford was elected to the National Association of Sportscasters and Sportswriters Hall of Fame. Six times at Sports Illustrated Deford was voted by his peers as U.S. Sportswriter of The Year. The American Journalism Review has likewise cited him as the nation's finest sportswriter, and twice he was voted Magazine Writer of The Year by the Washington Journalism Review. Deford has also been presented with the National Magazine Award for profiles; a Christopher Award; and journalism honor awards from the University of Missouri and Northeastern University; and he has received many honorary degrees. The Sporting News has described Deford as "the most influential sports voice among members of the print media," and the magazine GQ has called him, simply, "The world's greatest sportswriter." In broadcast, Deford has won a Cable Ace award, an Emmy and a George Foster Peabody Award for his television work. In 2005 ESPN presented a television biography of Deford's life and work, You Write Better Than You Play. Deford has spoken at well over a hundred colleges, as well as at forums, conventions and on cruise ships around the world. He served as the editor-in-chief of The National Sports Daily in its brief but celebrated existence. Deford also wrote Sports Illustrated's first Point After column, in 1986. Two of Deford's books, the novel, Everybody's All-American, and Alex: The Life Of A Child, his memoir about his daughter who died of cystic fibrosis, have been made into movies. Two of his original screenplays have also been filmed. For 16 years Deford served as national chairman of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, and he remains chairman emeritus. He resides in Westport, CT, with his wife, Carol. They have two grown children – a son, Christian, and a daughter, Scarlet. A native of Baltimore, Deford is a graduate of Princeton University, where he has taught American Studies.