When the sun slips into a dusky grey, one gathers gloves with some reluctance. One picks up bats that lean against a backstop, and searches for baseballs in the tall grass somewhere in left center. Of course, there is a…
Category: Grief
The Cardinals in solemn silence stood. They watched clips of a young man on a screen until years glowed. 22 years old. Oscar Taveras wore 18, and Carlos Martinez wears the number now to honor his teammate. That number is…
I left Cardinal country and flew back to the Northwest. I emptied my schedule, and turned to baseball. For my grandfather had died. I had gone home, but now I was back. I thought ballgames would bring me comfort. I…
I found three yellow wiffle bats in a garage. I found some comfort there. I took only one, and Frisbees to call home and each base. I left several wiffle balls in a net, in a box, in case we…
Taking a short hiatus from Ol’ Abner in the immediate aftermath of the death of a relative. by
There was a field. Towering black netting and PVC pipe – kept in place with wooden boards – guarded home. Foul poles, some 250 feet away, kept the games fair. Every Fourth of July my uncle would mark out the…
I wrote this for my hometown newspaper after Oscar Taveras died. http://www.news-leader.com/story/opinion/contributors/2014/11/04/fear-derail-taveras/18479259/ by
I am on hiatus while I recover from a concussion. by