Walter Johnson

by Michael Ceraolo

Sportswriters frequently praised my modesty,
and often added that I was scared to death
of hitting batters with a pitch lest I kill them,
thereby inferring I could have been more effective
Since I hit more batters than almost every pitcher ever,
it would seem I easily overcame my fear
And while I like to think I lived up to the modesty part,
being modest does not mean that you don’t recognize
your own worth both on and off the field
My pitching effectiveness speaks for itself;
there’s no reason for me to further tout it
And I was aware of what I was worth to the team financially:
though I couldn’t get anywhere near that amount
because Mr. Griffith and the other owners held all the cards,
I frequently held out to get what I could
And the one time the players held a few cards
with the existence of the Federal League alternative,
I signed a three-year contract with the Chifeds
for a $5500/year raise from what I was making,
along with a $6,000 signing bonus
(one of the other owners of the Senators
said I wasn’t worth what they were paying me,
much less merited a raise,
because I had only won 28 games the previous season)
I jumped back to Washington for a mere $500 raise,
along with Mr. Griffith promise that he would get me
a few thousand more for each of the next few seasons afterward
And Mr. Griffith lived up to his promises

Michael Ceraolo, a retired firefighter/paramedic, follows sports and writes poetry, mainly about the Cleveland area.