Most 10-year old boys dream of playing professional sports. However, a lack of skill is often the downfall, and the dream soon fades away. For some people whoever, the pursuit of being a professional sportsperson continues. George Plimpton is one such man. He is described on his book covers as ‘the professional amateur’. A man who travelled the major leagues of America, competing against the first there was to offer.
But how can his work be described? Is it the story of man who compete on the same field as legends, or an exploration into the people who play these sports, what makes them different from the average Joe who picks up his bat every Saturday?
George Plimpton was born in New York City on the 18th March 1927, the son of a successful corporate lawyer, who later became the American ambassador to the United Nations. He enjoyed studying at Phillips Exeter Academy, Harvard and Cambridge, during which he spent two years in the Army, before returning to Harvard to receive his batchelor degree in literature, which was followed by a master’s in English from Cambridge in 1952.
Upon leaving Cambridge, he moved briefly to Paris, before returning back to America, but not empty handed. The Paris Review became the love of his life, coining the phrase ‘a man of letters’, and was his project for life, remaining as editor right up to his death.
Plimpton described the Paris Review as having great value to writers, where it gave poets, short-story writers and novelists, to chance to be given the leg-up to getting published. In an interview in with Tanya Stanciu and Amy Nickell for Gadfly Magazine (1998), Plimpton stated
‘A whole barrel of people first published their works there…the early work of Philip Roth and Rick Moody, Rick Bass, T. Coraghessan Boyle, Richard Ford, Terry Southern…and I think that’s performing a very valuable function.’
Plimpton claimed in a different interview with the editors of Pagitica, Jason Gileno and Marcus Robinson, that poetry can define a magazine, and their views
‘The poetry reflects the wishes of the poetry editor, in our case. Each of them have had reigns of seven years, approximately. There was a time there when Tom Clark was an editor and he was very fond of the Beat Poets – Ginsberg, O’Hara, Olsen…and published them, whereas Donald Hall, our first poetry editor, had nothing to do with that group at all.’ (Pagitica, 1998)
The Paris Review was part of an upstart generation, described as ‘very tall men’. It was set up to hit and niche in the market, the intellectual. As a result, Plimpton fought to keep the magazine available to all, without trying to hit just one ‘ism’.
‘If you do, you’re stuck with that “ism”. If it’s Dadaism, you last for an issue or two, or if…you follow the policy of New Criticism or any of the other “isms”, you get stuck and get bracketed, and then you have to change your “ism”. And sometimes that’s hard to do. Our views have been very eclectic.’ (Gadfly, 1998)
Plimpton is more remembered for his work as a participatory journalist, leading to TIME magazine calling him the ‘professional amateur’. Plimpton describes participatory journalism as:
‘You actually become your story. If you’re writing about baseball, you become a baseball player. Or if you’re writing about football, you become a football player. You participate, then you write about the experience. And your participation becomes the bulk of your story. I did it writing for Sports Illustrated. I went around and asked if I could play out these daydreams which all men seem to have. I don’t know what women daydream about, but men usually daydream about great feats in sports, striking out the batting order of the New York Yankees – you know, boring things like that.’ (Gadfly, 1998).
During his time, Plimpton participated in a variety of dreams. He played professional baseball, American football, Ice Hockey, Basketball and Golf. He boxed three bloody rounds (mainly spilling his blood) with a word champion boxer, played tennis against the best, he toured with the New York Philharmonic as a percussionist (playing the triangle), he rode the high trapeze for a circus, he was shot and killed by John Wayne and he also became a centrefold photographer for Playboy magazine.
Despite all his successes, it’s his work in sports participation journalism which remains a bone of contention. Whatever a sportswriter may do, they will only ever been considered a ‘sports writer’. Taking a man with the stature of Plimpton, many people would still only recognise his work as that of a sports journalist, rather than as a work of a literary god.
TIME magazine said
‘Behind his several masks and costumes lurks an excellent and greatly underrated writer. His primary problem is that almost nobody takes a book on sports seriously. The public, to be sure, has bought his books –Out of My League, Paper Lion and The Bogey Man have sold nearly 2,000,000 copies in both hard-cover and paperback-and the critics have generally been enthusiastic. Yet both readers and reviewers have inferentially relegated Plimpton to the special, segregated subcategory of journalism reserves for the sportswriter. And a sportswriter, even a very good sportswriter, is still, in most people’s eyes, only a sportswriter.’ (TIME Magazine, 1970)
The story of how Plimpton became the ‘professional amateur’ begins with ‘Out of My League’, written in 1961, and begins at Yankee Stadium, where he had managed to get seats close to action, so much so that he could hear every word being spoke.
In the fifth innings, Mickey Mantle hit a home-run for the Yankess, and as the pitcher made his way off following the end of the inning, he started speaking to his team-mates in the dugout. Plimpton remarked
‘I envied him – even his difficulty with Mantle. I leaned far out of my seat trying to hear – hoping to get some indication of what it was really like out there, what it was like to face Mantle from the pitcher’s mound…and yet I knew that no matter how articulate the pitcher, still it wouldn’t be enough. It was something you had to experience yourself to know truly…’ (Plimpton, 1961, pg. 2)
Plimpton realised that to truly understand sport, you had to become part of the sport. Much in the same way it is argued that commentators should have been professional sportspeople, and referees should have played the sport at the highest level, for a person to gather a perspective on the sport they love to watch, the need to play at that level.
As a result, Plimpton travelled to the offices of Sports Illustrated, with a newspaper clipping containing the announcement of an all star game, due to take place at Yankee Stadium. Plimpton was not a baseball player, like many kids, summers had been spent pitching at high-school and college, but nothing more. Yet, he had the idea to pitch to the world’s greatest players. Even stranger, was that Sports Illustrated would support him in his effort.
Plimpton would pitch in an event against each player in the league, and depending on which base they got to, would score points for their team (American or National League), and the team with the most points, would win $1,000 to be shared amongst the squad.
Once he entered the field, and being surrounded by players, Plimpton was amazed at the support he received from the players.
‘…as we stood together – waiting for something to happen to release us – I felt a sudden kinship with the players. It was an entirely unexpected emotion, since I was so obviously an outsider, but it came: that warm sense of camaraderie one gets, if briefly, as a team member…never mentioned, but there nonetheless, almost tangible, and it was very strong…’ (Plimpton, 1961, pg. 87)
In modern times, where money rules sport, it is forgotten that sport is a team game, and anyone who steps onto a pitch are normally part of a team. In Plimpton’s day, there were no multi-millionaire players, everyone was in it for each other. And the support a player can receive is beneficial to their performance. Here, Plimpton was made to feel as comfortable as possible..
Plimpton’s books about sport are not just about the sport itself, but the people who play the game. Paper Lion, was the product of his month in training camp with the Detroit Lion, which tells more null the inner world of pro football than any other book ever written.
It has previously been said that the pitchers mound was one of the loneliest places to be, and Plimpton was finding this out during his warm-up pitches.
‘Mostly you hear your own voice – chattering away, keeping you company in the loneliness, cajoling and threatening if things begin to go badly, heavy in praise at times…I recall the first sentence I spoke to myself was “OK, bo, you’re goin’ to be O.K. Nothin’ at all to worry about, nothin’, nothing’,”. (Plimpton, 1961, pg.89)
Sport is about the mental battle, as well as the physical battle, and the best players are mentally strong on the field. Plimpton was showing that having the confidence to play is a big step towards being a great player. As the contest continues, the inner-voice makes reappears.
‘It was while Hodges was at that plate that the inner voice, which had been mumbling inaudibly at first, and calmly, began to get out of control…At first the voice offered its usual counsel not to push the ball, and to take things easy: presently it got exasperated…like a short-tempered farmer training a pup to come to heel…then this curious thing happened. It turned traitor. The voice went defeatist on me. It escaped and ran off, washing its hands of the whole miserable business.’
If any moment shows the different between professional sport and amateur sport, it is the way in which the mind thinks. Clive Woodward in his book ‘Winning’ called it ‘T-Cup: Thinking Correctly Under Pressure’. Plimpton wasn’t defeated by his body yet, but his mind was already lost.
As a result of the excessive pitches thrown, and the thoughts of the mind, Plimpton was only able to get through to the end of the National League innings, before retiring injured. But ultimately, Plimpton had tussled with greats of the game. And had got a taste for professional sport, the only question was where he would turn next.
Whilst ‘Out of My League’ focused on his own personal performance, his two later books ‘Paper Lion’ and ‘Open Net’, looked more into the people who played the sport and what made them tick.
‘My credentials as a football player may not have been of the first order. But I kept assuring myself that the purpose of my participation in professional football was not to represent the skilled performer but the average weekend athlete.’ (Plimpton, 1966, pg.10).
Plimpton had to struggle against the belief of him being an athlete, compared to just a journalist. At the first team meeting, Plimpton was almost barred from going in, the coach claiming it was off the presses radar.
There was some reflection on players being cut from the squad, considering Plimpton himself was a rookie.
‘The days of the squad cuts made everyone uncomfortable – the empty beds and the missing faces – and I felt it strongly. The effect of insecurity was stronger on my fellow rookies, of course, who had so much at stake…Everyone tried to keep his mind off the future.’ (Plimpton, 1966, pg.106).
Plimpton had tried to understand it must be like to have your whole life put on the line, only for it to disappear within a couple of days. He also tried to understand people’s obsession with the game, and why football players can become heroes.
‘Always after practice, the crowds moved across the sidelines and grouped around the players as they started across the wide field for the gym. Some of them wanted autographs; others simply walked along with the players for the enjoyment of proximity…I had refused to sign anything at the beginning, but it was too difficult to explain why my autograph was not one they’d be especially keen to have.. (Plimpton, 1966, pg.147).
As with ‘Out of My League’, Plimpton had to struggle with the nerves and voice of being in competition.
‘Sam Williams, the first-string defensive end came by, and looking down my aisle of locker. “Nerves, kid?” he asked. “How are the nerves?”.
“Well, I’ve got them, Sam” I said. “I feel them in the stomach.”
He was in his sixth year of professional football, and I asked him if nerves still affected him.
“Sure,” he said. “In the feet and hands…heavy feet, heavy hands so’s I can barely move around.”
“Heavy feet!” I said. “Think of that. My nerves seems to stick to the stomach.”
(Plimpton, 1966, 218)
This shows that whatever the sport, the battle against nerves is what drives players on to becoming the best in their profession. As a result of nerves, Plimpton failed in his attempt to be a football players, fumbling the ball and falling over at different times. While he lacked the skills to be a football player, he learned what it was like to be part of the team, and also that with any sport.
When it came to writing ‘Open Net’, Plimpton never thought he would play Ice Hockey for a piece of participatory journalist.
‘I had what seemed a logical excuse: I am very poor at on skates. I tend to skate on my ankle bones. Someone once pointed out that on skates I am the same height off as I am on the ice.’ (Plimpton, 1977, pg. 1)
What could have set up a story of a man learning an entirely new sport and achieving greatness, instead was focused on the players who play what it is fastest, toughest game on earth, and the way in which they trained compared to those in the NFL.
‘The practices were much simpler than I imagined they would be. There was no instruction, no plays diagrammed on a blackboard, indeed hardly any communication between the coach (usually just Don Cherry or his assistant on the ice) and his except that a whistle would blow from time to time and we would be told what procedure to do next.’. (Plimpton, 1977, pg. 49).
Plimpton was failing to understand just why things were a lot simpler in hockey compared to football, and he tried to gain an understanding from the coach.
‘”Hockey is not complicated,”…”When Bobby Schmautz joined the team in Philly – we’d picked him up for $2,000 after he was about to be waived through the league – I showed him every play we had…drawing them out on a lunch counter napkin in five minutes.” (Plimpton, 1977, pg. 51).
As with the football, evening’s after practices were spent down the local bar, catching up on the stories of players from around the league. Plimpton tried to understand a hockey players’ humour.
‘The Philadelphia Flyers had a player named Moose Dupont who was constantly being told that interviews had been arranged for him with various reporters and news service representatives; he’s get dressed up, at tie, and all spiffy, and leave for his appointment out in the seats – such-and-such a row in the Spectrum – and the Flyers would peek out of the corridors on their way to the parking lots and spot him sitting up there alone, patiently, staring out between his knees…Moose fell for this two days in a row. The third day, as he knotted his tie in the locker room to get ready to go out and wait once again up in the seats, he said, “Well, I’ll give this guy one more shot.’ (Plimpton, 1977, pg. 76)
Plimpton was a master at taking the readers into his place, telling you all the stories the players themselves had to offer. But also, he reminded himself of what he was doing, and what it meant to supporters watching the game.
In the match itself, he had to face a penalty shot, a one-on-one battle, which surprisingly, he saved. When recalling the save, he mentioned
‘A very decent roar of surprise and pleasure exploded from the stands. By this time, I think, the Philadelphia fans thought of me less as a despised Bruin than a surrogate member of their own kind. The team identification was unimportant, for an instant. I represented a manifestation of their own curiosity if they happened to find themselves down there on the ice.’ (Plimpton, 1977, pg. 178)
Plimpton remembered who he was, a fan, a supporter. He never forgot that fact. And when telling his stories, he remembers who he was telling them for. For the average Joe who will never set foot against players of such magnitude.
Plimpton’s work was the start of a generation, many other journalists realised that the way to understanding sport, was to be part of the sport. However, this has been taken to the extreme by other journalists.
Ian Stafford is a prime example, in his book ‘In Your Dreams’. Whilst Plimpton wanted to gain an understanding of the sport, and the people who played the sport, Stafford was more interested in trying to gain himself a career in the sport. If he had been a success at something, there is no doubt, he would have passed up his career as a journalist and taken up the other career.
This was shown in a sequence while Stafford was taking part in an athletics event, in which he finished dead-last, but was clinging to a little bit of success.
‘And then my deflated ego received a sudden and unexpected burst of air. An official handed me a piece of paper with the reaction times of the second semi-final. This refers to the period of time taken between the gun sounding off and the feet leaving the blocks. Incredibly, I was fourth fastest in my race…”I’ll have to work with you on my starts,’ Christian said, when he saw the evidence thrust into his hands.’ (Stafford, 2001 pg. 181).
The perspective that if Stafford had been a success, he would drop his career and follow his chosen path is clear. Compared to Plimpton, who more looked to gain a perspective of the sport, and the sportspeople, recognising that he was purely an outsider, Stafford aimed to be on the same level as the professional, Plimpton was comfortable in the role of an amateur.
Plimpton’s legacy on journalism is massive, he influenced a generation of journalists, but he was still unable to completely change the face of sports journalism. Instead, he marked what it was like to be a sportsperson, not by getting inside their mind, but by living alongside them.
He stepped on the field and was made to feel part of the team, but more, he took the person who sits on the couch, shouting ‘Go Team’, and put them alongside their heroes. He told stories that made the fans know the players more than they could ever wish.
BIBLOGRAPHY
Gadfly Online (1998). Trumpeting Truman. Accessed Online at: http://www.gadflyonline.com/archive-plimpton.html
Pagitica Online (1998). In Dialogue: George Plimpton. Accessed Online at:
http://www.pagitica.com/extras/plimptondialog.html
Plimpton, G. (1961). Out of My League, The Lyons Press: Connecticut
Plimpton, G. (1965). Paper Lion, The Lyons Press: Connecticut
Plimpton, G. (1977). Open Net, The Lyons Press: Connecticut
Stafford, I. (2001). In Your Dreams. Headline Book Publishing, London.
Time Magazine (1971) George Plimpton: The Professional Amateur. Accessed Online at: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,942286,00.html
