Celebrity blogger and author Zack Hample collects baseballs. I understand he has close to a zillion of them. I collect hats.

I think one of the reasons I had a tough time with team allegiances is because I like so many of the team logos and hats. Of course, nothing looks better than Dodger Blue. But I'll even go so far as to say that the Dodgers not only have the best uniform in the Bigs, they have the best assortment of team logos in the Minors too. I think the Devil Rays come close ...

By now, I hope you realize this is going to be a superficial, smack talk entry ... void of any poetry or literary value. But on sheer historical chic, how can anyone (except maybe a conceited Yankee or Red Sox fan), argue that their team uniforms are better than Dodger Blue?

Before you folks lambast me with evil emails, let me just say I'm kidding.

I'm a uniform and logo traditionalist. That comes from being a wannabe baseball historian. I think the older clubs ... the Yankees (who stole their jersey script font from the Dodgers ... I refuse to believe it's the other way around), the Red Sox, the Reds, the Pirates and Tigers have the most simplistic charges and colors that have survived revisions (the White Sox too after years of insufferable ugliness have stuck with a good thing). Even the A's have their enduring elephant logo even if the colors have changed. The Mets as a Dodger/Giant combo are cool by default. The oldies are still the goodies because they don't require change. The Padres should take notes ...

This extends to the minors. I know little about the details of the clubs but the logos for the Dodgers, Devil Rays, and Red Sox are among the best. The Durham Bulls ... well, movie. 'Nuff said. But the Rays also have the Charlotte Stone Crabs (cool), Bowling Green Hot Rods (cool), and Montgomery Biscuits (storied ... but not so cool) and probably should've stuck with the Devil in them before they became the bland drab of Kansas City in the Sunshine State.

The Red Sox have the Portland Sea Dogs which (back in the day) was such a cool logo that a brief renaissance of hats in the late part of last century erupted with minor league merchandise and I remember distinctly the Sea Dogs led that charge.

But the Dodgers are the best. So sit down. Albuquerque Isotopes? It takes guts and a bit of chutzpah to name a team that in an area that even Bugs Bunny couldn't navigate (let alone space aliens). But I dig the logo even if it does remind me of Astros hideousness. The Chattanooga Lookouts with their GEICO commercial creepy eyeball appeal is as timeless as Durham. And the Inland Empire 66ers makes a cool logo out of a stupid name. Ditto that for the Great Lakes Loons.

Minor league baseball is amazing, but I find it hard to follow. So I'm just about collecting the hats myself and even that can be challenging. So did I leave anyone out? Opinions?

I know Baseball is around the corner, but I'm just not "into" it yet. Or maybe I'm just not "feeling" it yet. All the same, I know that it's a matter of time before the bug bites.

Here is a poem that might hopefully get me into the swing of things. It's by May Swenson and on the website where I mine these verses, the visual appeal of the poem is structured that the words make it look like a bat. Some poets do this at times to bring the art of what they're trying to say into word picture presentation on a page desirous in part to convey meaning dually through message and images like inkblots. I was able to insert the poem as Swenson structured it visually, but the poem itself is a brilliant piece even without visual enhancements.

The Analysis of Baseball

by May Swenson (c. 1971)

It's about
the ball,
the bat,
and the mitt.
Ball hits
bat, or it
hits mitt.
Bat doesn't
hit ball, bat
meets it.
Ball bounces
off bat, flies
air, or thuds
ground (dud)
or it
fits mitt.

Bat waits
for ball
to mate.
Ball hates
to take bat's
bait. Ball
flirts, bat's
late, don't
keep the date.
Ball goes in
(thwack) to mitt,
and goes out
(thwack) back
to mitt.

Ball fits
mitt, but
not all
the time.
Sometimes
ball gets hit
(pow) when bat
meets it,
and sails
to a place
where mitt
has to quit
in disgrace.
That's about
the bases
loaded,
about 40,000
fans exploded.

It's about
the ball,
the bat,
the mitt,
the bases
and the fans.
It's done
on a diamond,
and for fun.
It's about
home, and it's
about run.

 ... I'm just being neglegent. And I have nothing for you. Well maybe an offer.

A friend of mine and I are starting a Yahoo Fantasy Baseball league. We're capping it at 8 because everyone knows Eight is Enough. And if you like corny witticisms, come join my league. The draft is set for 6 PM Eastern Time on March 28th (it's a Sunday)

Yankees fans need not apply. HA! I'm kidding!!

Email me at a_simple_poet@msn.com or check the side links on the bottom of this blog page for my Facebook link and friend me there (let me know who you are first) for more details.

I look forward to hearing from you and to providing fresh insights, poems, and the like as Opening Day draws near!

Baseball has been on the back burner lately. I have been engaged in my alter ego side ... Will the Dark Fantasy/I'm a more sadistic and sinister than Tolkien novel writer. I have to say I've been productive at least in a first draft manuscript sense of things, but I digress.

I've been obsessed with two things that dominate most of the time. The first is the Dragon Age: Origins Video Game (Heaven sent manna for my Fantasy fix). Secondly, and less obsessively, I've been transfixed by Johnny Damon.

I don't know why. I'm not a big Damon guy. He's a sell out. A Hardball mercenary. Maybe that's the reason. He takes his bat and 20 plus dingers and hires them out to the highest bidder. Playoffs be damned. He's just lucky enough to have chosen correctly for rings with the Sox and the Evil Empire. Go Johnny Go.

But not this year.

This year he's going to land with a loser as he hopes Scott Boras can get him a final decently compensated career twilight gig. Options abound. The Reds, Tigers, Devil Rays, and Blue Jays all seem to be in the mix. I'm rather shocked that it's taken so long. Having been abandoned by the Yankees (for which I don't feel any sympathy for Damon. It's a mercenary's comeuppance in my opinion), it's nearly February and he can't find anyone who wants to pay more than 3 million for him. But I just have to know where he goes!

It's just crazy. So my prediction? Johnny Damon will be ... a Giant for the right price.

That's it for now. No poems or prose to share this time. See you again soon.

Wouldn't you know that the week that Sonnets & Sliders is featured as the MLBlog of the week, I get WRITERS BLOCK!

I want to say that I am humbled by the attention and graciously thank all of my readers and friends who alerted me to this surprise privilege. It is my hope that my upcoming posts will live up to the hype, though I'm not quite optimistic because I don't think I'm all that good. In essence, I am delighted to shift the spotlight to more talented writers and poets.

Today I want to share a publication that I stumbled across on the web. Essentially, The Elysian Fields Quarterly is a baseball literary journal and far superior to what I do here. I have no affiliation with this publication other than being a new fan. I invite all of you, if you haven't already, to take a gander.

The poem I have today is by Phillies Manager Charlie Manuel. Who knew he crafted verse? This one is entitles My Most Memorable Day and originally published on the Cleveland Indians website in 2000. I chose it because I thought it was well crafted and also because it coincided with a memorable honor for me here at MLBlogs this week. I am certain Charlie has had more memorable days in the 9 years since he's written this poem, especially with his World Series victory in 2008, but heck ... maybe not. Anyway, here goes.

My Most Memorable Day

by Charlie Manuel

It was a warm day in August when history was made,

And the fans in the boxes were looking for shade.

The bases were loaded, it was the last inning.

From the sound of the crowd, you knew we weren't winning.

When out of the dugout came No. 3,

The last hope for the Twins it was sure to be.

Now legend tells of Casey at the bat,

But today it was the Killer who tipped his hat.

Cursing and swearing came from the stands,

When Harmon was waved back by Rigney's hand.

An astonishing look came over the Brew's face,

When Rigney said, 'Manuel is taking your place.'

A disbelieving look as he turned around,

Placed his bat in the rack without a sound.

Then from the bench came No. 9,

Who'd been warming the pine for a long, long time.

As he stepped from the dugout came a yell from the stands,

'You can't hit Manuel, the Killer's our man.'

Never before in history had they pinch hit for the Brew,

Especially with some hillbilly hitting .182.

This was a mockery, a dirty rotten shame,

To pinch hit for a man who's a sure Hall of Fame.

But Charlie heard not a word as he strode to the plate.

He only noticed the crowd's eyes; they were filled with hate.

'God, help me this one time,' kept going through his mind.

'If I ever get a hit, let it be this time.'

Jim Palmer looked in and thought, 'This should be a cinch,

I'll throw three by this rider of the bench.'

Down came the ball with a little white glare,

As Manuel stood watching for he knew it was there.

'Strike one,' came the call from the man in blue,

And four pitches later it was 3 and 2.

Now everything rode on the very last pitch.

Would Charlie stay a poor boy or would he suddenly be rich?

The crack of the bat and a long drive to right,

The back of Blair's uniform is the only thing in sight.

The roar from the stands gave a deafening scream...

Then Charlie fell out of bed, it was only a dream."

My Most Memorable Day by Charlie Manuel © 2000

Catch more about this poem at this link:

http://www.baseball-almanac.com/poetry/po_most.shtml

I have to admit that Baseball hasn't been heavy on my mind this week. I've been indulging a bit in the goings on of American Politics after taking a year away. I'm a bit of a political 'junkie' as it were, you see. But baseball is always on my mind and I'm nearly finished with Chris Coste's book.

Speaking of books ... (since this is SUPPOSED to be a a blog about literary baseball) I've found a link (now about a week old) naming the best baseball books from 2009. I've included the link for your viewing pleasure a bit further down the page.

I know I want to acquire Bruce Weber's book about the Umpires once it goes to soft cover. Catcher, by Peter Morris looks intriguing as well, though I've yet to see it on bookstore shelves. And The Machine is on my shelf and queued up in my reading list. Hopefully you'll find something on this list to your liking.

http://www.baseballamerica.com/today/majors/book-guide/2009/269330.html

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't draw attention to the fact that this blog has passed its one year anniversary. Of all my previous forays into the blogosphere, this site has lasted the longest. Only once before have I reached the one year mark with a blog which promptly died on cue. This one, thanks to interactive audience input and encouragement, seems to be destined for healthier longevity. I also have more resources at my disposal and more uncovered net links to bring the "letters" of Baseball into the limelight and keep the essence of this site true to its original mission statement.

And I'm sure I'll have something to say about the Dodgers as the weeks go on. Right now, none of it is good. But thanks to everyone for continuing to make Of Sonnets and Sliders a joy for me to craft.

And I'll always remember being surprised that on this date, Of Sonnets & Sliders was the featured blog on the MLBlogs page ... the same day that the 'Hawk' flew into Cooperstown! Thanks everyone for your dedicated readership!

Happy New Year, everyone.

It's the time of year where the Hot Stove sizzles and the fireplace crackles warmly promising a cozy evening with a good book and a toasty beverage.

I have a host of books to digest as winter waxes on, but I touched on that over at The Smiler's Dugout (shameless plug). You'll also find my Spring Training itinerary posted if you're in the Tampa area in March and want to meet up.

Until then, a good read is an article written recently by Diana Schaub in National Affairs. I've decided not to furnish a personal opinion about this one because it is lengthy and "all over the place" with content. But Schaub has crafted a superior piece and I encourage everyone to take a gander. If you have an opinion or wish to discuss this piece, please do so in the comments and I might bite. Follow the link to read it at:

http://www.nationalaffairs.com/publications/detail/america-at-the-bat

Let me leave you with a baseball haiku. This one is by Lee Gurga, former president of the American Haiku Society (1997), former haiku columnst for the Solares Hill Newspaper, and a fellow ChiSox fan. More on Gurga here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Gurga

And now, the haiku (departing from the 5-7-5 form) ...

rumble of thunder

the boy still looking for the ball

in the tall grass

as printed in Baseball Haiku (W.W. Norton) p. 72, c. 2007

This will probably be the last post of the year, so I need to make this announcement.

Due to the increased volume of readership here at Of Sonnets & Sliders, (for which I am grateful), I was encouraged to re-tool my literary site to focus chiefly on Baseball. I've decided to become a Baseball Historian ... I mean, heck, that's a pretty broad and exclusive bunch. Now I want to see if I can pull it off.

So beginning with the New Year, Of Sonnets & Sliders will have a sister site (a supplement if you will) devoted to my study of the history of the game, my excruciatingly painful opinions regarding current baseball news & events if you want 'em (I've spared this page those mundane observations), and a bit of Hunter Thompson styled Gonzo writing about my personal life, and my direct experiences with the game of baseball (most of those are fictitious with a few kernels of truth).

This site is called The Smiler's Dugout. It will feature more entries and be the 'beer' to the poetry styled 'wine' of Sonnets & Sliders. And you can find it here: http://thesmilersdugout.blogspot.com/

Be advised that the site is active, but still 'under construction'.

I promised a poem last entry. Here is something I concocted back in 2005 when I began to be interested in Baseball again following a long, strike stimulated, hiatus from the Old Ball Game.

The poem kind of sucks, but here goes:

The Baseball from Beyond

A baseball crossed my path this day

In the middle of a dream

I was walking, in the morning heat

The trees were a stunning green

Ordinary happenstance

Basic serendipity

Just one foul ball, a chance askance

Brings joy in mere simplicity

The ball abounds

And bounces so

With the force of rage and beauty

Quite humble, nothing odd so mere

And fuelled by my insanity

The ball I bounce

My closest friend

In a word losing its gravity

I wandered far then not at all

Never towards a pitcher's mound

But always heeding nihilistic calls

This ball, which simply came to be

A gift from nearby infinity

A baseball crossed my path this day

In the middle of a dream

And after hours of ceaseless thought

I'll just take it as it seems.

~ Will the Smiler c. 2004 - All Rights Reserved

Happy Christmas and Feliz Ano Nuevo! See you on the other side of a flurry of confetti and martinis.