The Hidden Language of Baseball

Baseball is set apart from other sports by many things, but few are more distinctive than the intricate systems of coded language that govern action on the field and give baseball its unique appeal. During a nine-inning game, more than 1,000 silent instructions are given-from catcher to pitcher, coach to batter, fielder to fielder, umpire to umpire-and without this speechless communication the game would simply not be the same. Baseball historian Paul Dickson examines for the first time the rich legacy of baseball's hidden language, offering fans everywhere a smorgasbord of history and anecdote.

Baseball's tradition of signing grew out of the signal flags used by ships and soldiers' hand signals during battle. They were first used in games during the Civil War, and then professionally by the Cincinnati Red Stockings, in 1869. Seven years later, the Hartford Dark Blues appear to be the first team to steal signs, introducing a larcenous obsession that, as Dickson delightfully chronicles, has given the game some of its most historic-and outlandish-moments.

Whether detailing the origins of the hit-and-run, the true story behind the home run that gave "Home Run" Baker his nickname, Bob Feller's sign-stealing telescope, Casey Stengel's improbable method of signaling his bullpen, the impact of sign stealing on the Giants' miraculous comeback in 1951, or the pitches Andy Pettitte tipped off that altered the momentum of the 2001 World Series, Dickson's research is as thorough as his stories are entertaining. A roster of baseball's greatest names and games, past and present, echoes throughout, making The Hidden Language of Baseball a unique window on the history of our national pastime.

Paul Dickson is the author of more than 40 books. Both his first book, Think Tanks (1971), and his most recent, Sputnik: The Shock of the Century (Walker & Company, 2001), were born of his first love-investigative journalism-and examine the forces that have shaped the way we live in the information age. He has also written books about many of the other wide-ranging subjects that intrigue him, including the English language, baseball, history, Americana, and the maxims and "rules" of everyday life.

Long-fascinated by space and the Cold War, Dickson says of Sputnik, "I think this is the story I was meant to tell. In a very real sense, I am an eyewitness to some of Sputnik's most memorable influences on the West. As a teen, I watched Sputnik, enthralled by the adventure of the space race. As a young man, I was a cold-warrior forced into uniform by the building of the Berlin Wall and I was stationed on a ship supporting the recovery of U.S. astronauts from splashdown. Later, I worked as a reporter covering the Gemini and Apollo missions for Electronics magazine. I have long collected material on Sputnik's impact on realms as diverse as industrial design and civil rights. Over the years I have thought about its impact on my generation and those that followed and toyed with alternative scenarios in which the United States and not the Soviet Union was first into space."

After graduating from Wesleyan University in 1961, Dickson joined the U.S. Navy and later worked as a reporter for McGraw-Hill Publications. Since 1968, he has been a full-time freelance writer, contributing articles to various magazines and newspapers, including Smithsonian, Esquire, The Nation, Town & Country, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, and The Washington Post. He received a University Fellowship for reporters from the American Political Science Association for Think Tanks. For his book The Electronic Battlefield (1976), about the impact automatic weapons systems have had on modern warfare, he received a grant from the Fund for Investigative Journalism to support his efforts to get certain Pentagon files declassified. A founder and former president of Washington Independent Writers, he is also a contributing editor at Washingtonian magazine and a consulting editor at Merriam-Webster, Inc.

Dickson lives in Garrett Park, Maryland, with his wife, Nancy.