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μπέιζμπολ

by Dan Campion

The ancients had three Fates, three Graces;
Past home plate there are three bases.
Nine muses trace ends and beginnings;
A regulation game’s nine innings.
Baseball follows Greece and Rome
In cheering heroes bound for Home.
The mound’s Olympus, press box Fame.
No wonder it’s a Classic game.

 

Dan is the author of Peter De Vries and Surrealism and coeditor of Walt Whitman: The Measure of His Song and contributor of poetry to many magazines. The title, by the way, spells “Baseball”, at least according to Google Translate.

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Unbudgeable Grudge

by Jim Siergey

I have hated the Dodgers
ever since they beat my White Sox
in the ‘59 World Series
when I was a kid
So I am very happy
about what Tampa Bay
did

 

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Life Lessons for a Cleveland Fan

Memoir by Stan Klein

growing up in a city with a marginally competitive baseball team prepares one for life.

finances are always a problem, a constant lack of supportive friends, and a lifetime of consistent doubt.

the team can never afford the ideal of standard stars, so they have rosters full of talented problem players or those with curious issues with daily living, along with the majority of eager faces with spotty talent, filled in with aged players hoping to qualify for a pension.

mostly people like the ones you will end up working with in your day-to-day existence.

the experience gives you keys to understanding and eventually finding a humorous acceptance of disappointment.

have your championships, give me more vern fullers, duke simms, and joe charboneaus. no wins just smiles at our own shortcomings.

 

Stan Klein is an artist, gallery director, and former Little League umpire.

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Bender/Meyers/Zimmer et al.

by Michael Ceraolo

Albert was a Hall-of-Fame pitcher
(though not elected by the writers),
while John and Charley were first-rate catchers
(and Charley was chosen as president
of the Players Protective Association)
The others of us here were less successful,
yet all of us, great and non-great alike,
might as well have been the same person
to pseudo-clever sportswriters,
because they gave each of us the nickname
CHIEF

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Flu Ball

by James Finn Garner

Playing a game in a mask?
Not such a formidable task
Although it’s deemed tacky
To still chew tobacky
Else in odors and juice you will bask.

 

The Standard Murphys pose with masks before a game on Jan. 26, 1919, in California during the Spanish Flu epidemic. For more on the game, visit this site.