James Finn Garner – Page 113

June 11, 2007

Gary Sheffield: Free My Verse

by James Finn Garner

I called it years ago.

What I called is

that you’re going to see

black faces, but there ain’t no English

going to be

coming out. …

[It’s about]

being able to tell

[Latin players]

what to do —

being able to

control

them.

You might get a guy to do it that way

for a while

because he wants to benefit,

but in the end, he is going to go back

to being

who he is.

And that’s

a person that

you’re going to talk to

with respect,

you’re going to talk to

like a man.

These are the things my race demands.

So, if you’re equally good as this Latin player,

guess who’s going to get sent home?

I know a lot of players

that are home now

can outplay

a lot of these guys.

From an interview in GQ Magazine, June 2007

June 7, 2007

The Voice of God

by James Finn Garner

As I sat in Section 660
Above the field where Gehrig trod,
I cursed the Yankees’ inept play
And muttered grudging praise to A-Rod.

Then a booming voice erupted,
Rattling beams and shaking sod.
Had sanity up and left me?
Or did I just hear the voice of God?

All eyes sought out the owner’s box
Where George S. kept his shrimp-stuffed bod.
What revelation would be uttered that
Had this crowd’s undies in a wad?

There stood Rocket Roger to declaim
(Feel free whenever to applaud)
That he’d weighed golf versus sleeping late,
And deigned to give the Yanks the nod.

“Hooray!” bellowed the drunken crowd,
Mouths agape like fresh-caught cod.
Yet I sat there with no response,
Unmoved, unsure, ungaped, unawed.

The feeling grew within me
With more than one fantod,
That this mercenary egomaniac
Wouldn’t rescue this year’s squad.

He’d win a game or three and show
His skills were not a fraud,
Then retire again, then change his mind,
A greedy, charmless, pumped-up clod.

Though many things, George S. is not
A cowardly tightwad,
But bills come due. Next year our costs
Will feel quite like a doctor’s prod.

June 5, 2007