On the eve of political conventions,
when the country splits between
Democratic and Republican entreaties,
when there seems to be more
division, sorrow and enmity
than we think we can stand,
we need the regularity of normalcy,
that baseball has always provided,
the choreography of catches,
the balance of pitch and hit,
the familiarity of the fans’ roar.
We need the comfort of the old statistics,
the veneration of our sainted heroes,
the link to our childhoods,
when the only thing that mattered
was the ability to hit the ball squarely.
We need baseball and its long traditions
to remind ourselves of who we are –
good people proving the old values,
enjoying an afternoon contest, confident
the game will not end up in a brawl.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME