Posts Tagged ‘glove’

Diamond Dog & Nickel Comparisons

10 Mar


Jack Ker­ouac


Whoa! Un mis­tek! It should read “and I reck­on we’ll see you Fri­day night at Howrey Simon near ten…”

You’ll have time to sign-up at your new sports­club, get your first sweaty whacks in, recov­er and greet us by then I would sup­pose. Bat­ting cage residues: not as sore as you pre­dict­ed. In fact, not sore at all, just tired, and that’s as much a response to excess spir­its in a bot­tle as pumped up team spir­it in the bat­ting cage. How’s your arm feel­ing this morn­ing? Uh, not that you were exact­ly sling­ing bul­lets, but it IS a new activ­i­ty, and spring arm is sim­ply a fact of dia­mond lifestyle. I feel a slight ache in my throw­ing mus­cles. Next week you should real­ly try to flex your own a lit­tle bit more in that depart­ment, and you def­i­nite­ly need work in the fly ball depth per­cep­tion rou­tine, but I am con­fi­dent your nat­ur­al grace will aid you as quick­ly as your con­fi­dence, not cock­suri­ty, or over-con­fi­dence, but sim­ple humil­i­ty-dri­ven con­fi­dence, ris­es to the occa­sion. Even infield­ers must snag a pop fly on occa­sion…

As I write this I am remem­ber Ker­ouac’s fond­ness for base­ball, and Bukowski’s over­wrought dis­taste for it…

CB was sim­ply a jerk, pre­fer­ring instead to stress his inge­nu­ities and flex his flop­mop mus­cles at the race­track. A twen­ty spot staked on a fig­ger-rigged mare of many sure beats run­ning around the bases after just swat­ting the long ball, in his book I reck­on, but man, base­ball IS the game! Any­body can play at some lev­el. And you don’t have to lose a lot of mon­ey to the mafia in the process…



"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""