This poem, about baseball player Tom Seaver and breaking up a no hitter, has disappeared from my stash. It's one of my favorites. Anyone out there recognize it?
You might check this one out, it's one of the best baseball sites on the web: [www.sports.aceswebworld.com] />
Thanks for the thought. I'm aware of that site and unfortunately the poem I'm looking for is not there.
Do you recall any lines from the poem, that would help immensely? Also, I've seen that many books have been co-authored by Seaver, do any of them contain the poem?
......and why did I forget to add the lines I know???
I'm virtually certain the poem starts as the subject line says:
"Back then the outfield grass ....." and then I can't recall any more.
The author talks about facing Seaver in a minor leage game, and breaking up Seaver's no-hitter with the only hit in the game. One of the appealing images in the poem is the somewhat ambiguous sense that the author has one recollection -- he got a hit and broke up the no-hitter -- yet others such as the box score, remember his "hit" as having been caught for an out and Seaver getting the no-hitter.
One line in the poem talks about our memories as the "disintegrating rushes" of memory, i.e., the rushes from moviemaking, the first prints of filming which are not preserved and lose clarity over time.
I see we struck out on this one once before:
Try e-mailing these guys. [www.mudvillemagazine.com] They seem to know their stuff. If you strike out there, e-mail the Mets organization and ask them.
The poem is titled "Extra Innings". The poet is Arthur Smith. It appeared in the June 11, 1984 issue of the New Yorker magazine, which unfortunately does not have archives on line that go back that far.
At least I have a title so I can search for it.
It appears in a collection called 'Elegy on Independence Day'; and an analysis of it is included in 'The Sporting Muse: A Critical Study of Poetry about Athletes and Athletics' by Don Johnson. Both are available on Amazon and elsewhere.
But I don't have the poem itself - sorry.