Tag Archives: Baseball


When it’s cold and dark next winter, I will wish
for summer, crave it more than sugar, more
than sleep. When I start to feel bone-chilled, I’ll push
my memory buttons hard, hunting for
a night just like last night. Until the sun
went down, it was truly hot, still 90 at six
on our way to the park, sunglasses on,
multiple water bottles filled to the max.
When the sun finally hid behind a barn,
it was suddenly cool. My son’s team lost again
(they often do). It’s hard when you’re 12 to lose
and learn from it, to lose and not feel blue
all night. But he spent the ride home cheering for heat
lightning along the horizon, big and fast and pink.


My Desperate Love for Baseball

“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall all alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.”

A. Bartlett Giamatti

Despite the stink of steroids over all

professional sports, my desperate love for baseball,

it goes on. Goes on even with the Cardinals finished.

I still watch the games, I love the names. Prince Fielder,

Angel Pagan, Buster Posey, Hunter Pence–

a jump rope chant, a spell for a long October.

A. Bartlett Giamatti’s right. Forlorn

for summer just exactly when we need

it most. I miss the hundred sliding beads

of sweat, all racing down the gin & tonic glass.

Let me confess another sin. “Best ass

in the National League,” a friend said of Tommy Herr.

That’s why I started watching in 1982.

The game blessed my lust. My love. Continues to.