• baseball


    by  • April 3, 2016 • baseball, grief, poetry • 4 Comments

    question It”s Opening Day . . . (well, the Red Sox start tomorrow) I have moved from coffee shop to brewery trying to catch the metaphor. Is it as simple as the pitcher misses the strike zone, the catcher misses the tag, and I miss my mother, who has been gone half a season...

    Read more →

    lenten journal: baseball

    by  • February 18, 2016 • baseball, failure, faith, hope, lenten journal • 2 Comments

    One of the realities—and wonders—of American life is Lent and Spring Training move side by side on the calendar. Red Sox fans observe Truck Day, which marks the trucks leaving Fenway Park with all the Spring Training equipment. This year it fell on Ash Wednesday, so I have been mindful of this tandem spiritual...

    Read more →

    fall classic

    by  • October 26, 2013 • baseball, family, grief, poetry • 9 Comments

    forty-seven octobers ago i was eleven dad was thirty-nine and we lived in a shotgun apartment for missionaries who had come home from the field . . .   I didn’t know much about america, but I loved the boston red sox though we had never been to boston in the fall and I...

    Read more →