by Jim Siergey
Originally published in The Chicago Baseball Magazine.
Taking a Lead
by Dan Campion
Base-ball is our game: the American game: I connect it with our national character.
—Walt Whitman, quoted by Horace Traubel, Sunday, September 16, 1888
Our scribes used hyphens to effect
The link of “ball” to “base.”
It took a bard, though, to connect
The game to time and place,
To claim that bonds of fellowship
Bound “character” to sport,
Each clutching other in its grip.
We’re privileged to report
The name is safe, the hyphen out,
Walt got the call correct,
Bard, umpire, manager, and scout,
Our leadoff intellect.
June 19, 1846
by Raphael Badagliacca
Baseball is a dance
That steps through time
Beginning in this hallowed place,
These Elysian Fields
Named for that storied
Space where sister muses,
Numbering nine, inspired
Every kind of play.
They danced the dance
That set the stage
With symmetry and elegance
With beauty and grace
Handing down from page to page
The moment when the pitcher winds
The moment when the batter hits the ball
The moment when the runner rounds the base
Stepping from decade to decade
Freeing us to measure time
In outs and innings
Bringing home an ageless diamond.
Our friend Raphael writes:
“Bardball friends:
“I am the baseball historian for an event next weekend: a ballet performance scheduled for June 27 celebrating the first “base ball” game which took place in Hoboken, NJ on a stretch of land called ‘The Elysian Fields.’
“I’m calling the performance BaseBallet.
“It will be an open air performance on a field in nearby Jersey City, NJ. There will be four dances which I call first base, second base, third base and home. As baseball historian, I will read four narratives and original poetry. Music: Bach, Beethoven, Take Me Out to the Ballgame, and John Fogerty’s ‘Centerfield’.”
The Bleachers of Prometheus
by Dan Campion
Prometheus made Greeks of clay
and stoked their fire so they could play
a world of games. The Greeks built up
stone theaters shaped like a cup.
Stirred by classic Hellene teachers,
ballpark architects made bleachers.
Thus: homers fly to bums like us.
Come have a beer, Prometheus!
The Part We Play
by Ralph Badagliacca
We may not have the arm speed
Of pitching aces
Or a swing that sends the ball
Over the wall
Or legs that make a game of
Stealing bases
Or a glove that magically
Astonishes all
But looking at the empty
Stands today
We understand the part we play.