By Stu Shea
Isn’t it enough that he can hit a ball to hell?
Does he have to take away others’ home run balls as well?
Yes, he plays the outfield and runs like Joe D.–
What bait does one use to land such as he?
Carpe Tomorrow ?
by Barbara Gregorich
Now pales
beside Next.
Call waiting
beats call existing
. every time.
Blue-star
free agents
glow brighter
than earthbound
team members
. every time.
Never had
call waiting,
but if I did
I’d ignore it
. every time.
I cheer
the team
that takes
the field —
and not the one
some baron’s
scheming.
. Every time.
Barbara’s new book, Jack and Larry, chronicles the love affair between Cleveland slugger Jack Graney and Larry, the team’s American bull terrier mascot (the only live mascot ever used by a major league team) in verse form. Read more about it and order a copy here.
“Mark the Bird” by Shirley Stringham
Next Year, A Chin Music Contest?
by James Finn Garner
As we take a pause for the All-Star Break
And the promoters fall over themselves,
There’s a confession I feel obliged to make:
I haven’t given a shit since age 12.
Baseball’s a Thing of the Heart
by Bill McCurdy
The gossamer wings of baseball soul
Float gently in the breeze,
Soaring high, from here to the sky,
On the winds of thoughts that please.
We grew up reflecting, wistfully back,
To moments measurable in time,
From Big Six Christy to Babe Ruth’s 60,
Each memory soared sublime.
Then came the voice of Barber
To mind sketch on our brains
The frames of sculpted sentiment,
As “the catbird seat” explains.
We bought the face of heroes
On colored baseball cards
To float in what we could not see,
In the words of the radio bards.
We took these winds and ran with them
On vacant lots and streets.
Our bodies hugged the earth’s sweet crust,
But our spirits soared in sheets.
In sheets of high plane color
Filled in by all who soared,
Our souls reached out and found our wings,
Life’s breath was not ignored.
And now when things like drugs and greed
Hi-tech us from all corners,
Attacking all the sweet spots,
Sometimes I fear we’re goners.
Gone from the floating hope
For a better world above
That we once found with baseball,
Bare feet – and a ragged glove.
So fight for all worth keeping.
Baseball gave us our start,
There needs be no loss-weeping,
For our game’s a thing of the heart.
Bill McCurdy writes about baseball, with a particular focus on the great state of Texas, at The Pecan Park Eagle.