My email group’s creative endeavors suggest that poetry is returning. Rick is to be thanked for his most recent poetic offering.
(Taken from “The Ballad of Mike Honcho/Jordan Beck”) Rick writes:
His teammates’ gaze was fixed.
As he took off his overcoat
In Tennessee, there is orange
They observed the name they had written.
Is Honcho a name of any kind?
hey questioned with a smirk
It only took a moment
As Mike Honcho went to work
He had a certain swagger
As he approached the plate
Staring down the pitcher
He knew the baseball’s fate.
My response: I thought “Casey at the Bat” was the best baseball poem ever written until I read this. I will forward the entire poem to Jordan Beck.
Jerry: I too was a fan of Lindsey Nelson. I was most fortunate to be seated at the same table with him at a dinner back in the 80s. He mesmerized us with his stories.
Our eldest child, Lindsey Martin Collins, knows quite a bit about Lindsey Nelson, since she has heard me talk about him her entire life. When she was a child, it was traumatic for her however, when she thought that I had named her after a baseball stadium. Shortly before her birth, I had read Lindsey Nelson’s autobiography and thought it to be a nice
