Wednesday, August 21, 2002

A home strike: owed to baseball

By BILLY MURPHY
Laugh Lines

Baseball is big. I don't know why, seeing that it's about as slow-moving as a city worker on Monday. I guess it has been mandated forever, though, since it was mentioned in the Bible, ("In the big-inning ..."). Personally I gave up on the sport years ago when the Braves stopped selling general admission tickets behind the left field wall.

I have firsthand experience, too, as I spent my high school years playing first base. First base is one of the most active positions, and still I found time on the field to do my algebra homework and make goo-goo eyes at Donna Mitchum. (And no, she didn't goo-goo back.)

Nevertheless, I hope baseball gets what it deserves for its steroid-fueled, greed-invested, grabfest. Whether they strike or not, we yet again see what big time sports are all about. With this in mind, I offer my fantasy for the family in a poem in the style of "Casey at the Bat."

The outlook wasn't so brilliant for the Atlanta Braves that day.

The score stood 4 to 2 with just one inning more to play.

Then when his chips were but crumbs and his Coke was all gone,

The man gazed out the window at his two-foot-high, unmowed lawn.

His wife tapped her foot in deep despair ... and told him,

"You haven't bathed in days nor combed your hair."

She clung to the hope that he would do his chores,

But then he pushed right by her to see the Braves had scored!

Chipper came to bat and Andruw stood at third;

The former was a slugger, the latter was a bird.

He fell back in his recliner and chimed for another soda.

Sheffield waved his bat like a saber in the hands of Yoda.

So up upon his children ... grim melancholy sat

To see another Saturday pass ... dad in his chair in his baseball hat.

The mom and kids stood lonely as Lopez laid down a bunt.

Nothing could be so terrific ... the Braves are in the hunt.

And now it had come to this as the Bravo raced for home,

This could tie the contest ... a game worthy of a poem.

The kids were tugging at him as he tried to see the screen,

And then suddenly it happened ... the reckoning extreme.

Oh somewhere in this favored land the Braves are in extra innings,

Crowds still do the wave ... the fat lady can't start her singing,

And somewhere a man is laughing and little children shout,

For there is joy in Homeville, for this family has gone out.

[Contact Billy Murphy via e-mail: Billy@ebilly.net.]

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