when listening to notables of stage and screen, or

famous writers of fiction far from the hot stove leagues,

touting the “beauty of the game”,–– the subtlety in its movement,

the silence in its complex communication, the heartbeat in its hesitant lead

off the bag at third, the tense isolation of the outfield, the game's last stand,
all as beautiful as, well.. something hard to define, but –– consider this:

-the lengths to which we’d go-

it wasn't hard to resist playing the game with Hank Casper’s new baseball,

the lathe-rubbed jewel from the mines of Diamond Company.

a D1-low seam is what it was;

cadmium red, its stitches strained across the cowhide cloak.

the chosen one was game-tested, more than once retrieved

from the sewers or cajoled from the slop at the playful jaws of intruding dogs.

this time, it’s caught in the wire mesh of the backstop, wedged there
from a looping foul ball, a good ten feet above Tom Curry’s head.

(I’m exhibiting the imagery of a small band of ballplayers

gathered behind home plate looking up to the wire of the backstop)

sure, we needed a climber, but the mesh was unstable

and besides, we'd been warned not to climb the wire by Ray Parrese,
a pal of my father, the boss of all things prescribed by

the "Columbus Park Rules and Regulations Committee". 

then this:

Casper’s new bauble in leather waiting in the wings

too pretty for the rough of the game, not a venial

sin pinpricking its virgin hide,–– not even a hint of ash,
but the weathered old-timer's wedged in a purgatory of chicken wire.

“why the hell don’t you guys throw something up there

to knock it down”?

so Henry Casper threw his new beauty upward

and on the first try, knocked the old ball free from the wire's trap

and that’s the baseball we used to play the game that day;

Henry’s brand new Diamond D1-low seam.

you see, when it knocked the battered old ball down,

well,–– it was a baptism of sorts, the welcoming to the game.
you know, something beautiful for the beauty of it all.

so that's my story.

so let ‘em talk about that.