Sit Back. Watch Poetry.

Tennis, World Cup, Baseball, Poetry. And, I buried the lead. Again.

Poetry is said to be emotion set to words.

Which, if the poetry is good, is deep and satisfying and stays with you like the memory of those crazy-good chocolate-chipotle and salted caramel gelatos from Splendora’s that I just started thinking about … and now I can’t shake.

gelato paradise

Gelato Poetry.

Not all poetry is good.

But, good poetry doesn’t need to be long or deep or hard to cut through.

This is good poetry. It’s one of my favorite poems that I recite to myself nearly every day.



See, poetry can be beautiful and useful, too.

(I might argue that “Suckity, suck, suck” which sometimes slips out of me when the Orioles go bad at about the sixth inning is poetry, too. Not beautiful, but there’s a certain rhythmic honesty to it, don’t you think?)

Most important, poetry must be just-so. Just the right amount of words and rhythm and voice to convey an emotion or a thought.  And, nothing more.

One of my clients was at the French Open and when I asked him how it was he said simply, “Roger Federer is poetry.”

Federer is nearing the end of his career and was defeated early on in the Open, but, I knew what he meant.

Poetry in writing and in athletics and in Yoga … is when you don’t do too much, but you do just enough.

It appears effortless, even when you know that it isn’t.

You can see here, that my client is right about Federer.


And, here’s World Cup poetry. Guillermo Ochoa is the goalkeeper for Mexico. During this week’s game against heavily favored Brazil, they played to a tie, and Ochoa did this.


But, a tie, strangely enough, leaves the story untied, untidy, and unfinished.

A good poem, like a good baseball game, will always end. On Tuesday, it took the University of Virginia Cavaliers 15 innings, and nearly five hours, to defeat Texas Christian University in the College World Series.

UVa Shortstop Daniel Pinero had two errors in the game, including one that led to an unearned run for TCU.

But, poetry has a habit sometimes of wrapping things up neatly, forgiving the sins of the past, and making things just-so. Like this.

pinero 15

Pinero Poetry.

A good poem will hold you. It’s too beautiful to turn away.

Watching LA Dodger Clayton Kershaw pitch is always poetry. Seemingly effortless and beautiful to watch.

Listening to longtime broadcaster Vin Scully call a Dodger’s game, something he’s been doing for 65 years, is poetry, too. The rhythm, the words, and the beautiful silence that stretches between. Just right.

To see Kershaw pitch a no-hitter this week, with Scully sitting beside you … forget the rest of this post. THIS is poetry.

“And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to sit back and watch it with you.”




And, here’s Part 2 … Fauxetry In Motion.


14 thoughts on “Sit Back. Watch Poetry.

  1. Thank you. For your comments on Zen and baseball. And for snagging that bit of Kershaw’s gem and Scully’s unforgettable style. I’ve had a soft spot for the Bums ever since they inhabited Brooklyn; before TV it was one of the few major-league radio broadcasts that reached into darkest Florida where a kid named Henry Aaron was tuning in up in the old Sally League before going to the Show. The Jacksonville Braves, that was and he ruined my old favorite Sally team (and Ty Cobb’s alma mater) the Augusta Tigers. I have always said that I am not surprised that baseball conquered Japan and developed stars like Ichiro who returned the favor by conquering the American League. Of course they loved baseball and recognized it for the sport of choice for those with a long exposure to Zen. The pauses, the rhythms–both on and off the field. When you’re playing third,you settle into a Zen like calm with each pitch, and if you are in the white zone as the Russian athletes used to call it, the ball finds your glove. Brooksie was the Zen Master of third. Old and disaled now, something in me still remembers when I would rather have played a sandlot game than watch a professional game. Now I watch, and absorb, and remember May Scully live forever and report a few thousand more Dodger games! Those of us in Mariner country lost our guy, Dave Niehaus, and the games just aren’t the same. No Dave, no Junior, no Bone, no Big Unit, no Ichiro. But the Kiing stands tall, and others are gathering around him, and baseball and life goes on. Your post brings it all back fresh and vivid. So thank you.

    • Thank you for stopping by and for taking time to write. I’m so happy to find another soul out in the ether who feels the sweet Zen connection in the game. I always say that baseball was my Yoga, before Yoga was my Yoga … because it helped me find stillness and helped me find the bliss in the spaces of the game.

      Vin’s voice always reminds me of my dad listening to Dodger’s games on the radio on Saturday afternoons … I feel reconnected to that time and place whenever I hear him calling a game.

      P.S. I turned Kershaw’s windup into a Yoga pose for my students last season … it just felt like it deserved its own place on a Yoga mat!

  2. Pingback: Fauxetry In Motion | Baseball, Yoga, Life … (and me)

  3. Oh Vin. Such a classic and classy way to call a ballgame. I was watching that game of course, but since I live in Colorado, they don’t allow us to listen to Vin when the Rockies are there, I have to hear the local market broadcaster. What a letdown! The whole game I just wanted to hear what Vin was saying. So thanks for posting that link. Much appreciated. I think Kershaw is one of the classiest players in the game today. I hope he stays that way thru his entire career. Loved the post!

  4. BROOKSIE INDEED WAS THE GREATEST ZEN MASTER OF THIRD; FOREVER POETRY! And Jim Palmer at the mound…WOW! (Guess this makes me an OLD O’s fan :))

    • Hi Lynne, Don’t discount the poetry of Manny Machado over in the Orioles hot corner today. Even Brooks has said that Manny is the best in the game. He’s a joy to watch … very similar to Brooks, I think.

  5. Pingback: A Meaningless, Meaningful Game | The Baseball Bloggess

  6. Pingback: At least there was ice cream | The Baseball Bloggess

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