{"id":10394,"date":"2010-12-24T15:05:49","date_gmt":"2010-12-24T22:05:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.seamheads.com\/?p=10394"},"modified":"2010-12-27T16:07:30","modified_gmt":"2010-12-27T23:07:30","slug":"nostalgia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/2010\/12\/24\/nostalgia\/","title":{"rendered":"Nostalgia"},"content":{"rendered":"

(Here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s an old poem to keep the holiday kindling. 1989\u00e2\u20ac\u201dJeromy Burnitz was in right field for the Columbia, S.C. Mets that day.\u00e2\u20ac\u201dGVH)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Nostalgia<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

The ball field in Columbia,
\nCapital City Park, ramshackle
\nbut benign, with bleachers
\nthat sag like a hammock,
\nsquats in a now-abandoned
\nneighborhood, all the better
\nto foster fans to the stands
\nwith a sport for nostalgia.<\/p>\n

The Augusta Pirates bat,
\ntheir second baseman slashes
\nat a curve. Then he searches
\nfor a hole in his wood, curses.
\nBehind home, a silent umpire
\ndoes nothing more than raise
\nhis right hand, doesn’t say
\na word. And why should he?<\/p>\n

The score’s already eight to two,
\nthe Mets ahead. If they score
\nten runs, there’s pizza, free
\nfor everyone attending.
\nRodriguez holds his stance,
\ntakes a called strike three.
\nEnd of the inning; beginning,
\nperhaps, of the binging.<\/p>\n

Enough’s been written about baseball.
\nWe all know why
\nwe come: to verge on open fields.
\nAny lingering resistance fades
\ninto the filaments of light which
\nbanish those vague, returning nags.
\nA certain silence reserves
\nthese grounds for aptitude.<\/p>\n

A new Augusta hurler takes
\nthe mound. It’s only the bottom
\nof the third, and I don’t know
\nmuch about pitching mechanics,
\nbut his aren’t good.\u00c2\u00a0 First batter up,
\nBill Fordyce, raps a single into
\ncenter field. The expectation is
\nturning this slaughter into comedy.<\/p>\n

Right fielder Brian Davis steps into
\nthe batter’s box. He seems to study it,
\nas if the outline in chalk carried
\nan oracle. No voice bestows
\nits full grace; he hits into a
\nfielder’s choice. This may be
\nthe best of fortunes, since
\nhe gets a lead and steals second.<\/p>\n

In turn, Alberto Diaz takes
\nto the offensive and stilts
\na check swing over the infield.
\nDavis had to hesitate.
\nHe doesn’t advance. With runners
\non first and second, Mark Thomas
\ntrundles towards the plate, ponderous
\nas he hefts his heavy lumber.<\/p>\n

The mood at the park is like a funeral
\nfor jazz; no true fan would let it pass.
\nAs a pitch descends, Thomas staggers
\nhis threatening bulk in stages,
\ntwisting his shoulders, abdomen, torso:
\nstrike one. Everyone uncoils.
\nI discover that boiled peanuts
\nare for Southern palates.<\/p>\n

That last hanging curve still
\nhangs in my memory, the echo
\nThomas created with the crack
\nof his bat’s impact, a banner effect,
\nthe crowd rising to its feet, their
\nhunger for dreams satisfied
\nby the arc of the ball against
\nthe sky. I felt beauty for the fly of it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

(Here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s an old poem to keep the holiday kindling. 1989\u00e2\u20ac\u201dJeromy Burnitz was in right field for the Columbia, S.C. Mets that day.\u00e2\u20ac\u201dGVH) Nostalgia The ball field in Columbia, Capital City Park, ramshackle but benign, with bleachers that sag like a hammock, squats in a now-abandoned neighborhood, all the better to foster fans to the stands […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":740,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,4235],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10394","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general","category-top-stories"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t