The Club

It’s not like anyone would claim that six-
Packs enhance one’s performance (on the field).
Yet he excelled, a babe but not a child,
Setting a record to stand for a long
Time, raising it high with all of his might,
Larger than life in magnitude and weight.

Nobody really knew they had to wait.
A man does not a club make. When all five
Tools are displayed, you wish you may, you might
See brilliance, but all over the field.
An out and a home run can both go long,
Both with the exuberance of a child.

But it’s more than just a game for a child.
Those who struggle alone, with all the weight
Of prejudice and history, so long,
Perhaps just want the solace of the four
Corners, running around the pristine field
With no other care. Oh yes, they just might.

The rumors swirled. “Yes.” “No.” “Who knows?” “We might
Not know for sure.” “What happened to the child
That we had seen, watching from near the field?
Who is this man with all this excess weight?
Who challenges those great, historic, three?”
“Will there be any others before long?”

And how could anyone for whom I’d long
So much to do well now seem like he might
Be anything more than the number two
In what had drawn me to this as a child
When baseball was like this? Time will not wait.
I must face more than what was on the field.

Some promise more than brilliance in the field
And deliver a lot, over the long
Haul. And yet looking back, the decades’ weight
Doesn’t quite feel worth it. It’s like they might
Have done even more, when seen as a child,
Might someday have become the greatest one.

And now, after this wait, although it might
Not have looked from the field like all that long,
The wonder child joins them with new zeroes.

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A-Rod: Accusations and Admissions

Can I post now?

It’s obviously silly to ask. This is my blog, and I post if I want to. But part of my mind wants to wait for fallout that follows this. No, not from A-Rod. You say your apology, and you go on. But who will follow him into a dark spotlight? Do I truly want to wait and find out?

Say what you will about Barry Bonds, and I won’t fight you too long. But this? This was our fault. Craving a knight to gallop in and fix it all, which of us forgot how such a knight must jump from dark to light and back again? It cannot stay put, wholly good or wholly bad. All of us forgot. Forgot, too, our initial horror at his monolithic contracts. At what cost a champion without flaws? It’s not important. No such thing truly is.

As a Cubs fan, my obvious comparison is to our last campaign. Anticlimactic, but how could such a climax work without failing? Pouring too much into a solo shot just sinks it down.

So who is our forthcoming champion now? A young boy waiting for a thaw, or in his yard anyway. Throwing a ball up and catching it. It will not roll into a road. Not today, anyway.

Our champion plays in anonymity, and that is good. Soon, that play will turn into hard work, with shortcuts looming. But not for him, oh no…This is ridiculous. I, too, am hallucinating.

But a child of my imagination only cannot disappoint.