Academic journal article Making Connections

The Rover

Academic journal article Making Connections

The Rover

Article excerpt

Positioned at shortstop, he was the only one

allowed to move about, free to go after

the onion at third, second, or in the garden,

even at first or the thrower's point

if he needed to. No one could wear a glove.

And the onion stung. Even with its rubber

center, even though it gave, it wasn't

so soft you could catch a sky ball bare-handed.

So when the rover struck a stinger straight to his son

in the long garden-horsehide arcing over the boy's

head-the young ballist eyed its trajectory

to the ground, scooped it up and threw it in,

showing good ginger, while the advancing

rover was legging it, tagging each base

for a triple at the county park, where

the annual Civil War Days sent soldiers

and canon fire, the smell of bacon and beans,

Lincoln riding in a golf cart, chatting

with the ballists as they headed off

the field, the nine's rover and Lincoln,

tall in a stovepipe hat, posing with the ballers

for a picture, the umpire trailing in the distance

with his walking stick, as if Lincoln himself had

thrown back time and the rules of 1858

appropriately applied. …

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