by Patrick Hogan
Regular season
Has become irrelevant
Thanks to Rob Manfred
September Madness
by Fred Lovato
Eight post-season games
an oscillation between
delight and torment
The Baseball Wars
by Stephen Jones
A hundred and sixty-two battles during the season
Fought, won or lost on stadium fields of green and dirt —
And where is my team now? It had so much promise
Last April, when everything was new and young,
And then it went to war. The summer-long campaign
Was rough, more games were lost than won —
And now it’s October. The stadium seats are empty,
The crack of the bat is gone, and only the ghosts of
“What if” whisper in the empty tunnels and locker room.
Radio
by Tom LaGasse
All baseball season
night after night
I listen
And here’s the pitch . . .
Who wins or loses
no longer matters
despite what
The most rabid
fans and sports
radio hosts tell me.
I try to pay
attention to
the spaciousness:
The way
each moment opens
green
Like the smell
of freshly
mowed grass.
Often, I get lost
remembering who taught
me how to love the game:
Backyard catch
sandlot games
grandfather, father
uncles, cousins,
friends, teammates.
We know the best
hitters fail more often
than they succeed
At their craft.
I, as a listener,
am no different
On deck is . . .
I look ahead to
warmer weather,
an upcoming game
When I will be
on vacation,
the World Series.
The crack of the bat
always returns me
to the beauty
Of players in motion,
of fans living and dying,
and the open field of green.
Tom lives in Connecticut, the battleground state split between Red Sox and Yankee fans. His baseball short stories have appeared in The Feminine Collective and Turnstyle: The SABR Journal of Baseball Arts.
End of Season at the MLB Tavern
by Stephen Jones
I was waiting at the bar for a playoff date
And looked at my watch. It’s getting late.
Then I heard the emphatic bartender,
With his fist pump, mask, and chest protector,
Announce to the lingering, glassy patrons:
“It’s last call. Closing time,” he intones
As he wipes the bar, satisfied with himself,
And begins putting teams on the postseason shelf —
Brands like Atlanta, Los Angeles, Baltimore, Tampa
(and just maybe Seattle, Chicago, or Philadelphia) —
And as he does, he continues to drone:
“It’s hotel-motel time if you can’t go home,
But right now, you can’t stay here —
And hey, better luck when we open next year.”
Pictured is Baseball Bill Holdforth, bartender and rabid DC baseball fan. For the story of how he worked to keep owner Bob Short out of the US Senate, check out this story from washingtonbaseballhistory.com.