No one know the man who throws out the season's first ball.
His face has never appeared in the newspapers,
except in crowd scenes, blurred.
Asked his name, he mumbles something
about the beginnings of hard times.
Each team fields an extra, tenth man.
This is the invisible player,
assigned to no particular position.
Runners edging off base feel a tap on their shoulders,
turn, see no one.
Or a batter, the count against him, will hear whispered
in his ear vague, dark
rumors of his wife, and go down.
Vendors move through the stands
selling unmarked sacks,
never disclosing their contents,
never having been told.
People buy, hoping.
Pitchers stay busy
They are everywhere.
One man rounds third base, pumping hard,
and is never seen again.
Teammates and relatives wait years at the plate,
An outfielder goes for a ball on the warning track.
He leaps into the air and keeps rising,
beyond himself, past
the limp flag.
Days later he is discovered,
descended, wandering dazed
Deep under second base lives an old man,
bearded, said to be
a hundred. All through the game
players pull at the bills of their caps,
I think Mr. Frist's reading of the public mind is wrong, and Mr. McCain has it about right....Most Americans understand their heritage and do not want now to be "anti-immigrant." They don't want to be party to an 11-million-person round-up and deportation. What they want is a politics that takes seriously their anxieties, anxieties that involve not just immigrants but general unease about the direction of a turbulent, constantly changing U.S. culture, as in that 2004 presidential vote....It may be too much to hope, but the purpose of political leadership in such times is to find a path toward our best lights rather than our darkest impulses. At the moment, Senator Frist of Tennessee isn't measuring up.
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He is so Cute......Thanks for the reading material....
Bubba, you are projecting your own attitudes and emotions onto me. I'm speaking up here…