The Hall Ball: One Fan's Journey to Unite Cooperstown Immortals with a Single Baseball by Ralph Carhart (review)

"The initial inspiration for the project was to honor all the players in the Hall, both the famous and the more obscure, the still vibrant and the long deceased, in a way that had never been done before" (230).

Most people don't find inspiration for a decade long quest and published book in a worn out, water-logged baseball. Yet for Ralph Carhart, the baseball his wife Anna pulled out of Willow Creek beside Doubleday Field in Cooperstown in the summer of 2010 took him on a unique journey where he left no (grave) stone unturned.

Having recently come to appreciate the lore of family history and genealogy, Carhart's passions of baseball and cemeteries unexpectedly collide. He sets out with his tattered baseball and the goal of photographing it on the grave of every Hall of Famer, setting his approach apart from others who have taken on the quest of visiting all of the graves. Carhart inscribes "The Hall Ball" on a side panel of the baseball and sets out with admirable purpose and determination, not knowing how long it would take, how much it would cost, or how he would make it all happen. A year into the project, Carhart added another layer of challenge and complication: he decided to add living Hall of Famers to his quest.

From the outset, Carhart's goal was much more than checking each name off the list with a picture. Once complete, his wanted the ball to forever reside at the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.

In addition to recounting challenges and experiences, Carhart weaves in his passion for baseball history throughout the book. This is evident as he recounts the beginning of baseball in each of the thirty-four states he visited. He emphasizes the importance of the Negro Leagues in baseball history throughout the book and honors the legacy of those often forgotten. Carhart's commitment to detail is paramount in the telling of the stories of the players and the game.

Visiting cemeteries is not for the faint of heart. Carhart's passion for honoring and recognizing players is evident as he goes to great lengths to find the graves, crypts, mausoleums and yes, even Ted Williams in a cryonics lab in Arizona.

Carhart's mission became even more challenging when he began closest to his New York home with the unmarked grave of Sol White, a nineteenth century player from the Negro Leagues who died without the finances for a proper burial. Two years later, due to the efforts of Carhart and others, White's grave was finally marked with a headstone.

The Hall Ball made its way from the massive nine-foot-tall tombstone of icon Babe Ruth at Gates of Heaven Cemetery in New York to simpler markers like that of relatively unknown Hall of Famer James Francis "Pud" Galvin at Calvary Cemetery in Pittsburgh. To Carhart, the thrill of the graveyard chase was not based on statistics or fame but on rekindling the stories of those who are often overlooked.

To honor and include the legacies of the twenty members of the Hall of Fame who do not have a final resting place, Carhart required some ingenuity. These included a visit to Wrigley Field so The Hall Ball could be photographed along the third base line where the remains of Ron Santo were spread. During a layover in Minneapolis, The Hall Ball rested on the bronze statue of Kirby Puckett outside of Target Field. Between a trip to Cuba and Florida, Carhart took The Hall Ball to Pinones Beach in San Juan, Puerto Rico to be photographed where the wreckage from Robert Clemente's fatal plane crash washed ashore.

Born in 1820 and buried in Hawaii, Alexander Cartwright was the firstborn member of the Hall of Fame. Carhart writes, "It was important to me that Cartwright be the final grave I...