First, the words of "the poet laureate of sustainable ag," Walt
Whitman (as per Willie Lockeretz' designation, here on SANET, in
'93): "I see great things in baseball."
Second, Cardinals catcher Tom Lampkin: ``This will get through even
the hardest and thickest hearts." Here's hoping.
Third, oh my golly gee...it's hard this bright day not to dream of a
time when baseball is reclaimed from The Suits. When the national
game is once again one seeded in the urban America of despised
immigrants, and happily transplanted to rural America. A game where
even short and pudgy men--and women--can play. Where violent land
acquisition is not the goal. Where there is no offense or defense,
because the game is far too Zen for such duality, and subsumes both;
but if there was, it is to be noted that the defense has the ball.
Where the point of the game is to stand outside on the grass, in the
summer sun, between a rangy man on a hill and a solid, older man
squatting in the dust...
..and run in a quartered circle
..to the left
..and come back home.
Finally from Go, /Warriors of the Diamond/:
The Tao of Hitting
Wait for the ball, it will come to you. When you see the ball
clearly, you will be able to hit it. Your eyes will guide the bat. Go
with the pitch, the pitch will never go with you. In this way, the
situation will dictate the hit. The pitcher will exploit your
weaknesses; if you have no weaknesses, you will exploit the pitcher.
Concentrate on everything; focus on nothing. The pitcher, the pitch,
the count, the situation, the way you feel, the bat in your hands,
all must become one single feeling. In this way, you will understand
the flow between everything and know the intent as it unfolds.
Happy 62, all, and if anybody here is reading from Fargo, bless
you, and see you in Cooperstown. :^)
"There's no skill involved;
"Just go up there and hit the ball."
--Zen master Joe DiMaggio
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