Run now down the dreary drowning droning cheers of summer under yellow umbrellas American baseball under rain A last blue light in the little lilac and raspberries wandering and falling spray of pop flies Sun slips between clouds squeeze play cat sitting on cedar deck gives backward glance White stone paper cup empty beer jangle […]
A bowl of vanilla ice cream as white as the apple of your eye. Topped with nine lost in the wild red raspberries. Game-Time Weather: Fresh yellow of daisies, not the father orange of July, nor the old man red-orange of August, or still older bleached-orange of Fall, not the infant one of March, but the teeming one […]
The Toads post “Breaking Bad in Stromboli” was published today over at Berfrois. Turn off the internal infernal TV for a few minutes and click here to check out the hep stuff happening these days at Berfrois!
Watching the baseball playoffs, garage and basement guitar aficionados may notice the similarity between baseball pitch tracking and guitar chord and scale illustrations. A kind of visual metaphor conflates the two methods of viewing a sequence stilled for analysis. The following tables illustrate a five pitch sequence that parallels a B minor 7th flat 5 […]
Sentence lines to right, rounds first, and pauses, runs on, and Comma throws short relay to Dash – who looks Sentence back to first, running the ball into the infield, Sense feels his way to the mound, one on, nobody out, in the bottom half of the first.
Snug spring dusk. Players hustle greenly across warmed grass, balls plashing infield, confetti falling, false plum blossoms. Easy out in plain outfield, long armed lob. Bang of whisked bat. Runner heels bag, rests at two, fair, perfect diamond view. Call strike three. Up from his robot squat, knob catcher under rule huge empire leans away […]
You watch Baseball and recall the hit that took a bad hop, bebopping between your legs like a line impossible to scan, bouncing over your glove touching the dirt. No one is listening. Even the umpire shook his head. “Shake it off,” Coach called from the critical dugout. “Bad hop,” the gracious pitcher said. But […]
There used to be a public telephone booth down on the corner from our place, the kind the caller entered through a panel glass door and dropped coins into the phone, outside the cleaners, across from the realtor’s office, the street corner just a dot of commercial activity in an otherwise residential neighborhood. The telephone […]
I pitch my brother a tricky slow curve that floats warbling past the pink hibiscus and slides away under the Chinese elm, but he goes with the pitch. The yellow plastic bat darts like a startled fish, and he sends me back, back, to the wall – and the white, holey ball whiffles over the […]
A baseball drought has hit the Northwest. We were already baseball-less in Portland, thanks to the absurd soccer league rule prohibiting sharing the field with baseball, as if a professional, major league sport has ever been an unadulterated enterprise. But politics, power, and prestige roam the outfield, and Ichiro, iconic favorite of a generation of […]
I went out this morning to snag The Oregonian from its usual pitch somewhere across the front drive area, but it was nowhere to be found. It was a lovely, solid gold morning. The car windows were a bit frozen still, but the blue and yellow sky was promising the answer e. e. cummings suggested […]