The Call

by Charles Ghigna

Like many kids of the 1950s, I loved baseball. I played on teams throughout my youth and in 1964 I received an invitation to spring training camp for a tryout with the Pittsburgh Pirates. I’m still waiting to hear from them. In the meantime, I’ve been writing a few poems…

I may have lost a step or two,
(Or four, or six, or eight).
My bat speed may have slowed a bit,
(Much like a rusty gate).

My fastball may have lost some pop,
My slider may be have slid,
But when I dream of baseball,
I become a kid.

A glint of steel in my young stare,
Swagger in my stride,
I saunter to the plate
With confidence and pride.

A fastball down the middle,
I swing with all my might,
Old Rawlings soars past the crowd
And deep into the night.

There I am in summer’s glow
Warmed by hometown cheers,
Rounding third and striding home,
Back to my boyhood years.

Suddenly I’m sixty-six
Asleep in winter’s sun,
Dreaming of what might have been
When I was twenty-one.

Still I wait to take the call,
To hear them say my name,
An old man dreaming of the day
He played a young man’s game.

Charles Ghigna (Father Goose) is a poet, children’s author, speaker, and nationally syndicated feature writer for Tribune Media Services.

Liberal Arts

by Ember Nickel

Arithmetic is a liberal art
Where all the rest of the statistics start.
Runs, hits, and errors. Averages. Fractions.
A boiling down of long hours of actions.
Memorizing records they thought would last.
Counting up to them…and then counting past.

So was geometry. Ninety feet square;
Sixty feet, six inches. Pentagons, there.
The distances to left-center and right
The arc of a parabola in flight.
Pythagorean “caught stealings”.  The shift
As sunlight or as fielders slowly drift.

And music. “Take me out to the ballgame”
Makes sense on TV (we’re not those who came)!
The melody leading up to the “charge!”
A place for many to sing on a large
Scale. Even anthems, sigh or groan,
Have found a way to call the field their own.

Astronomy (not just the Houston type):
To gaze at stars in green cap or pinstripe,
To classify them and predict who’s next
Even if things don’t go as one expects
To play under the lights, have some eclipse
Of newcoming talent, cheer on your lips.

These were the quadrivium. Yet there’s more;
Grammar was one subject that came before,
The simple linkups of fielder and base,
The schematics with everything in place.
The count, the swing, the hit. The strike. The ball;
No wonder it might be first of them all.

Logic. Decisions on the field of play;
To pinch-hit here? To bunt or swing away?
To try the long ball? Play for ninety feet?
Looked back on, criticized after defeat,
Forgotten in the wake of victory,
With everything else swirling giddily.

And rhetoric. The DH, pro or con?
Are the good days still here, or have they gone?
Williams or Ruth? Or Bonds? How to compare?
Is there any metric that’s really fair?
What might different statistics have revealed?
When will our announcers look at the field?

But now the random questions one responds
To are more pointed than “Pujols or Bonds?”
It’s “Do you recognize this obscure gem?”
If not, “So, why haven’t you heard of them?
You only follow MLB, as if
It was some ‘major league’? A swing and whiff!

There are other leagues, you short-sighted fool!
Oh what do they teach at your old-time school!
And I don’t just mean ‘A League Of Their Own.'”
So while I, yes, have heard of Toni Stone,
I don’t feel like this line of questions suits.
These aren’t your normal trivium pursuits.

Ember Nickel presents her various treatises at Lipogram! Scorecard! 

An Ode to Bright House Field (With No Mention of the Hooters Ball Girls)

by Joyce Heiser

We could’ve gone to SeaWorld
The ocean sounds like fun
Instead we sit in the hot heat sun
And watch a game of chance

Is it a game or more a test?
Road-tired vets that have to play
Minted fresh kids who demand their say
Now, then, a years-old dance

It’s a fine, fine line they walk
For us a lazy day
A beer, a dog, just to get away
It takes work to make romance

Requiem for Sam Henry

by Becky Binks

Late autumn brings damp and rain;
The baseball season is over again.
The Redbirds were soaring;
Their fans were roaring.
And Texas went home empty-handed.

The holidays and new year’s come,
Bringing dreams of series rings to everyone.
The hot stoves start burning,
With free agent yearning,
And revulse at the salaries commanded.

Spring brings tulips and green grass.
Training and opening day are here at last.
Northern fans bundle for the game,
Southern weather is a lot more tame.
And all hope to catch a foul single-handed.

The late Samuel Henry Donham (a college and semi-pro first baseman whose career ended in injury, and later a junior high baseball coach) instilled a love of baseball in his family, including his daughter-in-law Becky. She is a longtime Cubs fan whose faith is wavering.

Ferris Fain

by George Bowering

I’ll never see his like again,
My favourite hitter, Ferris Fain.

In London, Amsterdam and Paris,
They talk of nothing else but Ferris.

He always managed to amaze,
This handsome batsman of the A’s.

In 2002, George Bowering was appointed the first Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada.  His newest book, The Diamond Alphabet, is now available from BookThug.