dodgertown... a poem

sitting in my kitchen at half past nine with a mug filled with ginger, lime, and water- I am reminded that I have not fully related my story of visiting dodgertown. i have been rudely reminded of said visit by the beautiful montage of dodger memories by eric neel at espn.com.

when i was twelve years old i spent a summer in southern missouri. i fished for croppie and hung my line in front of fat rotten carp for hours. the air was warm and the ice tea was cold and good and i felt the sweat and fire orange sparkle of bottle rockets every night.

sitting in my kitchen at my oak table taken from the farm, i think back to that trip and the trip to florida with the same longing.

i was looking back today on the career of paul lo duca. he had his best season in 2001 when i was a junior in college. he hit twenty-five home runs. he was good and young and bright-eyed. eight years later, he's in new york city, sleeping on dollar bills, cheating on his wife and blowing diamonds across waves of cool white race horses- hooves blasting red dirt galloping like roy rodgers. calm and cool. blue shadows on the trail. blue moon shining through the breeze...

i can't figure out if it was the baseball or the fishing. maybe it was the charlie daniels song that played low at seven in the morning, hanging thick in the florida air of africans and crinkly white women... i ate a pecan waffle that was filled with too many stale pecans and enjoyed it for sentimental reasons...

the smoke hangs in the south with sweet cancer in a way that it never hangs in the west... still pungent, it is strong and weighted and connected-- with the husky whisps of robert e. lee's beard and the embedded wound bleeding inside of john wilkes boothe.

the fishing. the poles were twenty dollars apiece. twenty of which i still owe matt. we used shrimp to bait the hooks. to cover our hands with the smell of gulf stream salt and rancid sea. we pierced their eyes and ran silver through their backs- trying to emulate the live glowing bounce of the long dead animal.

we met a crazy man. twenty years old and filled with medication. abercrombie and fitch pressed white t-shirts with logos. his mind filled with mixed-up thoughts of puerto ricans and murder and drugs. we didn't have any and we didn't know anybody to kill. it would've been nice to meet his dad and it would've been nice to have shaken the hand of a real vietcong killer, but the trip was too too short...

the baseball was good, too. and the fish we caught- the small pretty one, struggling with the barb, sitting on the ledge of the pier, splinters in its scales, slapping the water and swimming away. the croaker and the pregnant one we let go- its eggs popping out of its belly.

i saw scott elbert get roughed up for three homeruns. and was grouched at by tommy lasorda- his belly loose like the atlantic we walked by in port saint lucia at dusk while talking about the oysters we ate and the records we would sell if we had the time or energy or talent.

maybe the lime and the water moccasain will get me in the end.

3.19.2007

i had a sweet time this weekend will every human i made contact with.

i am watching steamboat bill jr.

i just ate cheese.

i listened to harry potter and the curse of the jade scorpion on my piepod today.

my mom is coming over to bring us the dog. my phone is ringing. bye.

3.14.2006

man. i'm burnt out. just straight burnt out. not much of a post. i eat too many goldfish crackers and drink too much coke. i'm getting fatter by the day and i don't care anymore. i'm going to be the brian wilson of teachers in east los angeles.

3.13.2007

good times in florida. anyhow, as great a fielding team the pasadena bawlers would've been- it may not have even mattered if we'd jumped the gun and recruited mr. askay for our team...

scroll down some... he's on the giants. linky time!

3.10.2006

we've just arrived home from an evening walk along a1a. it was nice and breezy. i talked with ryan coultas, a friend who is playing in the mets minor league system. we were going to try and meet up with him in port st. lucia, but it didn't really work out.

we've had a pretty relaxing day. checked out vero for the third time and watched some minor leaguers take bp. i said,'hi' to ned colletti. he looked a lot less like a baseball man than supposed geekazoid paul depodesta. he was wearing alligator boots, though, which did earn him street cred points. we also ate a very tasty lunch in the town of stuart. our bellies were filled with some crab soup, raw oysters, crab cakes, fried oysters coffee, bread pudding, key lime pie, and sweet cuban blow. we then read and hung out some.

we've seen some fun games and will see more action tomorrow on our way out. in a little while, after eating dinner, we're going to go after some snook. we fished until 2:00 last night and probably will fish that late again. nothing else really. i am eating gummy worms.

3.9.2007

we've had a very nice first day in florida. my parents and matt are outside in the somewhat heavy gulf air reading the bible and drinking coffee. i am finishing a bad danish.

yesterday, we arrived and were in a rental car by about 5:30 am. we drove from tampa to a waffle house to st. petersburg to check out the devil rays' training facility. i ate a pecan waffle. it made my heart sing.

at the devil rays' facility we read plaques that told us about the great old teams that had played at the park. we also saw bj upton walk in for his morning workout. he was nice and gave me five and asked if i wanted to help him warm up with some catch.

we then drove over to pittsburg's workout field. the complex was actually four fields put together. some younger players were scrimmaging a college team, while others were warming up, taking bp, and the like. we talked a little to jim colburn who was helping tom gorselleany (sp?) and ian snell doctor up their pitches with sandpaper and doritos. i also heckled jason bay while he took batting practice. they were having him practice his bunting. i told him it was stupid because bunting won't help either his real team, or my fantasy team. we then waited around some for colbourn to invite us to the clubhouse for sub sandwhiches, but left when it seemed he was avoiding us.

from there, it was off to vero and our little pad by the gulf stream waters. our little pad is nice and we're going to do some night fishing with our new friend doug.
doug told us about his crazy life. now we've got to leave. we're going to watch another game- hopefully santana will pitch. they lost to florida last night.

anyhow. no spell check as we've got to run. bye bye!!