Archive for the ‘Baseball Poetry Project’ category

Injured, But Optimistic

June 3, 2019

I am envious of your optimism

Teach me to live that way

You tore your ACL,
after the second forearm injury,
after the first forearm injury,
after a serious head injury,
after several demotions,
after being undrafted,
and there you stand, holding a half-full glass

Teach me to live that way

Those setbacks would make me bitter, angry
More antisocial than I already am
I would want nothing but isolation and revenge
Setting the field on fire, when you only pounded it

This is why you are paid to pitch and I pay to watch it.

Bottle your positivity
You could sell millions!

Teach me to live that way

I am envious

ER

Top-rated prospect

May 22, 2019

Electricity; produced by thousands

The young messiah has finally arrived;
with heavy expectations, a legendary pedigree and a high pedestal

We stand when he comes out to stretch,
when a ground ball comes his way and for every at-bat

This is history

The moment of moments

Whip out your phone to capture it

It’s a playoff atmosphere for a late-april match

Cheers rain down for balls; anger for called strikes

One pitch flies high and tight

In our minds, we grab our pitchforks and torches

Line drive down the first base line

An eruption that’s prolonged as he’s removed for a pinch runner

And in true baseball fashion, his teammate with a .179 average hits a walkoff homerun

ER

Spring Training Haikus: The “Tradition” Continues

February 11, 2019

construction begins
at the spring training complex
where the earth is scorched

the new manager
leads a rebuilding roster
with future promise

fans want young Vladdy
to address his potential
and answer the hype

where does Travis fit
in a packed middle infield
with many options

pitching has questions
mixed with low expectations
and hopes for good health

ER

PS: Here’s another round of Dimsum Stories.

Eovaldi

November 19, 2018

The Red Sox needed Nathan Eovaldi
a day before his start
So he threw six heroic innings
plus one bad pitch
ending the historic match
as the east coast said “Good morning”
and the west coast said “Goodnight”

Walking off the field
dejected, upset
He hears the opponents celebrating and
thousands of joyous screams inside Dodger Stadium.

Pounds of salt on a fresh wound

His teammates show their appreciation
Not a single player or coach leaves the dugout
They know he didn’t lose the game
They lost the game for him.

ER

First Round, 22nd Pick

September 17, 2018

Man on the radio,
I’m driving while the city sleeps.
Tell me about the new draft pick.

He’s from Medford and runs with a proverb:
Height doesn’t measure heart.
It gives him a chip on his shoulder and
the meaning of life.
His life.

Man on the radio,
What’s the kid’s story?

Imagine being told you’re too small.
He got angry and
worked to prove everyone wrong,
using a fastball, slider and confidence.

Man on the radio,
what does his future look like?

He will tear his anterior cruciate ligament, but recover faster than anyone else.
He will help his team to the promised land after a 22-year odyssey.
He will earn a degree and several playoff starts.
He will win gold for his country.
He will build a fashion empire and maintain a mansion.
He will have ups and downs.
He will face adversity and a recurring blister.
He will energize the fan base.

You might be turned off by his bravado,
but baseball isn’t fun without character.
His character.

Man on the radio,
How will it all end?

Let the story play out.
Let the story play out.

ER

Hiatus

August 27, 2018

Inspired by Mr. Zwelling’s account of Mr. Axford’s summer of 2017

Going home

to see my children

Going home

because I have been released

Going home

for an extended break

Letting go

as I sit on the couch

distancing myself from exercise,

the life I have experienced,

stress and doubt

I will take my children to a game,

paying for our own tickets

We will sit behind the bullpen

The same bullpen I once sat in

We will eat hot dogs and ice cream sandwiches,

as I disconnect from my competitive spirit

Remarkable

how I have never watched the game,

only participated

My return will be determined at a later time

For now,

I am not a bullpen arm

I am Father, son, partner

ER

The Hurler’s Prayer

July 25, 2018

Coach in Heaven,
Fuel my strength.
Protect my arm.
Protect my shoulder.
Protect my ulnar collateral ligament.
Allow my pitches to find their targets, with the force to move mountains.
May flyballs land in gloves.
May ground balls stay in the infield.
Help me fool the opposition.
Fuel my strength.
In Cy Young’s name,
Amen.

ER


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