The other day, an off-day in the midst of the maelstrom
We call baseball’s post-season, trying to relax in the midst
Of my emotional imprisonment by the seasonal tight hold of
Playoff games, on an off day ostensibly for travel but
More likely for benefit of the cash cow, television and
Streaming channels, I found myself doing my best rendition
Of Auguste Rodin’s “The Thinker” and considered the
Never-ending adjustments of that imperfect experiment
Called baseball. I give credence to the recent attempts
To speed the game – – – the ghost runner in extra innings,
The pitch count, the limitation on a pitcher’s throws to first
Or a manager’s visit to the mound – – – but never the
Number of commercials between innings – – – and I was
Awakened to practices no longer extant (or barely present)
In the game as the first quarter of the 21st Century reaches
Its conclusion. When was the last time you recall seeing
A pitch-out? Name a pitcher who in a recent season has had
Multiple complete games. How often do you see the hit-and-
Run or a squeeze play? Name the current Clown Prince of
Baseball. Describe for me a receiver who uses finger signals
With a pitcher, or a third base coach who does the same
With the guy up at bat or a runner. Where have all those gray
“Away” uniforms disappeared to? At Citi Field I couldn’t even
Make a purchase from a vendor in the stands with cash – – –
And if I’d had a credit card, could I have used it for some
Cracker Jack? I’m just asking – – – and wondering whether
Today’s game is better than the one I grew up loving
Seven decades ago.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME