The world is always rolling between our legs. It comes for us, dribbler, slow roller, humming its goat song, easy as pie. We spit in our gloves, bend our stiff knees, keep it in front of us, our fathers' advice, but we miss it every time, its physic, its science, and it bleeds on through, blue streak, heart sore, to the four-leaf clovers deep in right field. The runner scores, knight in white armor, the others out leaping, bumptious, gladhanding, your net come up empty, Jonah again. Even the dance of the dead won't come near you, heart in your throat, holy of holies, the oh of your mouth as the stone rolls away, as if it had come from before you were born to roll past your life to the end of the world, till the world comes around again, gathering steam, heading right for us again and again, faith of our fathers, world without end.
ASM -- I forgave Buckner years ago. Never really blamed him, actually. dave Stapleton served one purpose and one purpose only -- late inning defensive replacement at first base. Otherwise, why would dave Stapleton exist? he is the only player in major league history whose batting average got worse with each successive year over seven years. Furthermore, it was the passed ball/wild pitch that was the killer. Buckner returned to the red Sox for a cup of coffee in, I believe, 1991 (may have been 1992) and on opening day at Fenway received a warm standing O. real Sox fans forgave long ago. I would suppose that Buckner is haunted not by red Sox fans, but rather by journalists and others who have a half-grip on baseball history.
By the way, I may as well make the announcement here, as everyone at dcat seems obsessed by Duke lacrosse, but my publisher wants to put out a second edition of Bleeding Red, this time with a few pictures. It seems weird to have a second edition six months after the first, but then again, the whole publishing world is weird to me. I'll keep you posted.
I think the pics of you, me, and Tom in gangsta poses with dozens of beer bottles all around would go well in the new edition, if just to make people go, "huh?"
4 comments:
Ready to forgive Bill Buckner?
Forgiving Buckner
The world is always rolling between our legs.
It comes for us, dribbler, slow roller,
humming its goat song, easy as pie.
We spit in our gloves, bend our stiff knees,
keep it in front of us, our fathers' advice,
but we miss it every time, its physic, its science,
and it bleeds on through, blue streak, heart sore,
to the four-leaf clovers deep in right field.
The runner scores, knight in white armor,
the others out leaping, bumptious, gladhanding,
your net come up empty, Jonah again.
Even the dance of the dead won't come near you,
heart in your throat, holy of holies,
the oh of your mouth as the stone rolls away,
as if it had come from before you were born
to roll past your life to the end of the world,
till the world comes around again, gathering steam,
heading right for us again and again,
faith of our fathers, world without end.
source: http://www.lexthomas.com/chezdesiree/openmike/hodgen/
ASM --
I forgave Buckner years ago. Never really blamed him, actually. dave Stapleton served one purpose and one purpose only -- late inning defensive replacement at first base. Otherwise, why would dave Stapleton exist? he is the only player in major league history whose batting average got worse with each successive year over seven years. Furthermore, it was the passed ball/wild pitch that was the killer.
Buckner returned to the red Sox for a cup of coffee in, I believe, 1991 (may have been 1992) and on opening day at Fenway received a warm standing O. real Sox fans forgave long ago. I would suppose that Buckner is haunted not by red Sox fans, but rather by journalists and others who have a half-grip on baseball history.
By the way, I may as well make the announcement here, as everyone at dcat seems obsessed by Duke lacrosse, but my publisher wants to put out a second edition of Bleeding Red, this time with a few pictures. It seems weird to have a second edition six months after the first, but then again, the whole publishing world is weird to me. I'll keep you posted.
dcat
I think the pics of you, me, and Tom in gangsta poses with dozens of beer bottles all around would go well in the new edition, if just to make people go, "huh?"
I'm down, JD. I'll talk to the publisher. I'm sure she'll be all about it.
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