The greatest casualty of my recent office move was the loss of my bulletin board on which were tacked my favorite poems (and New Yorker cartoons). I'm in search of a poem published I think in the New Yorker - author may have been Charles Smith?- about the author playing in a minor league baseball game and breaking up a no-hitter thrown by Tom Seaver. I think the first line was "Back then the outfield grass was ...."
Thanks for the reply. I've previously emailed the New Yorker, with no response (I did it again after your posting, so who knows, maybe luckier this time?). And it's not on that baseball site, which I was pleased to be shown. Thanks.