Baseball Haiku

by Joe Stroud
October 25, 2015

For the haiku study assignment I have chosen to write about my favorite baseball haikus from five different authors whose work was highlighted in the Baseball Haiku anthology published in 2007. This book is compiled of haikus that are all focused around baseball. The authors I will focus on are Dillon, Goodrich, Ketchek, Markowski, and van de Heuvel.

As a little boy I always enjoyed playing, watching, and talking about baseball. My knees are covered with scars from sliding on rocky dirt fields. I still have my first ball glove. Like most boys I collects baseball cards. When playing with my brother we would pretend to be our favorite players, even copying their swings. When visiting with my grandfather we would often talk about our favorite team, the Chicago Cubs.

The authors I have decided to write about were chosen because their haikus make me think of baseball memories from my life. As you read the following allow your mind to wander back to when you were young playing ball. Enjoy!

home run trot—
the batter's eye a tape
measuring the distance

Goodrich, BH, 7

I'm guilty of this! When I played baseball I only hit one homerun over a fence. Our high school ball diamond had fences that were just as deep as a major league field. I was a batter who had warning track power, but what I did possess was speed. Because I this I never tried hitting home runs. Instead I would shorten my swing and hit line drives into the outfield. My next trick was to steal both 2nd and 3rd base.

On one particular day we played at a field that had a short porch in left. I knew that if I got a fastball that I could poke one over that fence. I had faced the opposing pitcher several times over the years and always hit well off of him.

This was my freshman year and I played on the junior varsity team. That day our varsity team was playing on the field just beyond the left field fence. On my first two at bats the pitcher kept his fastballs on the outside of the plate so instead of trying to pull the pitches I drove them into the right center gap for doubles each time.

Finally on my third at bat I was given my pitch. The pitcher had fallen behind in the count and I knew that this pitch was going to be down the middle. As predicted it was and with a loud "ting" from my aluminum bat the baseball soared way over the left field fence. On the other field our varsity right fielder looked up as my ball whistled over his head, landing just behind second base before it rolled onto the infield grass. I had crushed this baseball! I remember watching it as I rounded first almost like it was in slow motion. This ball would have been a homerun at any park on the planet.

Although this was my only homerun, besides the in the park variety, it was one that I will never forget. It was 22 years ago and I remember every aspect of that afternoon. I have not thought about that day for many years. That is why I really liked this haiku and why I like haikus in general. It is amazing how a few words can bring back memories so vivid that I could almost place myself back in that batter's box.

I enjoy Goodrich's poem because his haiku paints a picture. Any readers who is a fan of baseball can imagine someone very proud of their homerun that they admire it as they slowly round the bases. The pitchers head may be drooped down with embarrassment as this happy hitter got his glory.

baseball cards
spread out on the bed
April rain

van den Heuvel, BH, 15

Topps, Fleer, Donrus, Upper Deck, stale bubble gum, of course I am talking about baseball cards. Any little boy who liked baseball certainly had a baseball card collection and I was no different. I lived in a small town and remember riding my bicycle to the little grocery store across town to buy baseball cards.

My mom would tell me that when I got to the highway that I was to get off of my bike and walk it across the road. The good old days when kids roamed the street freely. She was afraid that I would fall off of my bike crossing the road and get hit by a semi. I recall only walking my bike across the highway once, after that I just flew across on my bike, rebel!

At the store they only sold one brand of baseball card, Topps. For $0.50 a boy could buy a pack of 25 baseballs cards accompanied by rock hard, old, stale, nearly un-chewable gum. I would often go to the store with my friend from down the street. We would each buy a pack, or two, depending on how much change we had from our allowances. Once we had the cards we would race home and climb the tree in my front yard to our favorite spots where we would tear into the packs to reveal whose cards we got.

I recall us opening the cards reading them to each other one at a time, almost like we were announcing our starting lineups. If we received doubles of a player we would trade each other so we could each maximize our collection.

Our favorite team was the Chicago Cubs so when we got cards from our team we would be very happy. This would always prompt conversations about how the team was doing, or would be doing during the next season. There would sometimes be cards of future stars within the packs. If it was a Cubs player we would dream that they would be the one who would bring a championship to Chicago, guess that didn't happen.

Once we went through our cards we would split up and head to our respective bedrooms. In my room I had a binder with plastic sleeves for each card. This would protect the card and someday it might be worth lots of money, or that was the dream.

I had two baseball cards when I was a kid that were worth a decent amount of money. I had a Pete Rose rookie card and Hank Aarons second year card. The combined worth, or at least their worth in the 1980's was $140. I had each of these cards in hard plastic cases and displayed them on my dresser next to my Cubs hat and baseball glove. I had those cards for a few years and then decided to trade them for Nintendo video games one day. I should have kept the cards!

I like this haiku because I can imagine a boy sitting Indian style on his bed with all of his cards spread out. The rain comment makes me imagine that this boy was watching his team on TV and now there is a rain delay. So since he cannot see the team he is now doctoring their potential batting order for once the rain stops. My favorite part of this haiku is that it is me. I was that boy looking at my cards, dreaming that one day it would be me on a card holding my Louisville Slugger.

biking to the field
under a cloudless sky
my glove on the handlebars

van den Heuvel, BH, 17

Although I grew up in a small town there were 6 baseball diamonds. The fields near the school were all in one area and the area seemed huge. The spot of ground was on the far west side of town and was on a hill. If you were to look to the west it was easy to see for miles and miles.

In this haiku van den Heuvel mentions a cloudless sky. I can remember days just like this when I was a kid. I like this wording because it makes me think of the clean slate of a new season. It was a time in a kid's life when there were no worries.

There were a group of about 10 kids that would head over to the school to play ball. We all had BMX bikes and all of us had our gloves on the handlebars. Since we did not have enough for two teams we would take turns hitting. I was our pitcher and would pitch to everyone, except myself. I was not the oldest of us but I was the best player. They used to have a hard time getting hits off of me so I remember just lobbing pitches over the plate so everyone got some good whacks.

Another thing that I find interesting about the writing from van den Heuvel is how timeless baseball really is. These submissions were from the 1950's but even though I grew up 30 years later it still holds true. My childhood was far in a way after his but I did these same things. His haikus are quite simple but in just these few words I myriad of memories from my childhood were spurred.

the last kid picked
running his fastest
to right field

Dillon, BH, 91

This haiku by Mike Dillon was an easy one to choose because it reminds me of a few of the less talented boys I played baseball with as a kid. On every team that I can recall the worst player typically played right field and usually batted last. In my summer league games every player had to get into the game and bat at least once. I liked this because it got everyone a chance to play. If it were up to the coaches they may not play everyone because they are wanting to get a win. In this format it shows that the team is a whole and that everyone is important. And although I did not like losing a game in which I had 3 hits it made me realize that this was all for fun.

I really enjoy the way Dillon says "running his fastest". This to me says that although this boy was picked last that he was determined to try his best. Even though right field was where the worst players were usually placed it did not matter to this boy. He was just glad to be picked and now that we was part of the team it did not matter where he played, just that he got the chance. Often times it is determination pays off both on and off of the field.

Another memory that this haiku makes me think of is of myself. When I was about 10 years old most of the boys in my neighborhood were in high school. So they would have enough players they used to include me in their games of baseball, whiffle ball, basketball, and football. Even though I was six or seven years younger than these guys they did not show me any mercy. I remember playing tackle football and the hefty weight of 50 pounds getting pummeled by someone 3 times my size.

I enjoyed playing sports with the older kids. I feel that I became a better athlete by playing against tougher competition. As mentioned in the haiku this boy was picked last. When playing any sport with these kids I used to be picked last at first. After a while I got pretty good and was sometimes picked second or third. Thinking back maybe those older guys were just not that good or perhaps they were just being nice, but I can distinctly remember having several highlight real worthy plays.

When playing baseball with these older kids I too found myself stuck somewhere in the outfield. This may have been because they were afraid that I was going to get hit at too hardly on the infield. When I played in the outfield I would always run out there as fast as I could to show the guys I meant business.

After reading how Dillon played baseball when he grew up and how fondly he remembers games played by his favorite team, the Mariners, I feel that perhaps he was this boy too. Even if we become good ball players we may not have always been good. Or another thought is that some that he was friends with was this right fielder. Maybe his friend was not good but they needed a ninth person to have a whole team. Any way you look at this I feel that this boy was happy to be playing a game he loved.

summer loneliness
dropping the pop-up
i toss to myself

Markowski, BH, 107

Both of my grandfathers loved the game of baseball and my mother's father made it to the final cuts for the St. Louis Cardinals. Once he found out that they wanted to send him to their AAA ball club he decided to quit baseball and start a family. So growing up around these men there was no shortage of baseball tossing in the yard, nor baseball talk out on the porch.

When I was a kid I remember spending summer weekends over at my grandpa's. He was retired and used to spend hours working around his yard so in the afternoons he would often take naps. My brother was still pretty little so he too would stay inside. This meant that I needed to do something to pass the time. My grandparents lived in the country and did not have cable TV and besides that I was an outside kid growing up.

When the snoring began in the family room I would lace up my shoes, grab my glove and head outside. As most children do I had quite an imagination. I would pretend that I was playing in the World Series for the Chicago Cubs and would play an entire game without anyone being around. I used to toss a ball up in the air and hit pop ups out towards the cornfield. Another favorite thing to do was toss a tennis ball, makes less noise, onto the roof and let it roll off while I would practice making diving catches. Boy was I going to be a big star!

When playing ball as a boy I made sure that I could play any position. Because I wanted to be good at all aspects of the game I would do drills for all of these positions. For outfield I would throw the ball as high as I could in the air and then catch it. Like in Markowski's haiku I would sometimes drop the ball that I threw to myself. Even though no one was watching I would still get down on myself. But this only fueled my determination to get it right on the next throw.

Markowski was a fan of both baseball and haiku. As a boy he lived very close to Tigers stadium and would watch games throughout his life. Once he got into haiku it is easy to see that he had a love of baseball because he wrote several haikus on this topic.

As the other haiku I have focused on I really liked this one because it brings back specific memories for me of my youth. I too loved baseball and always imagined myself playing in the big leagues. I know that many kids have this same dream but I was almost certain that I would make it because of all of the work I would do by myself. As I got into my teens I slowly drifted away from playing baseball. I still very much loved the game and was still a good player but found myself playing for coaches who only played certain kids because their parents got involved or whatever. So I gave it up and began working and chasing girls.

Now I am in my 30's and sometimes get out on a slow pitch diamond to take a few hacks. I don't run fast anymore. I can't throw in the 80's anymore. Although I have lost skill I still can hit and field so when I play it still kind of brings me back to some glory days from my childhood.

Whiffle Ball—
a windblown home run
over the neighbor's Rambler

Ketchek, BH, 122

Whiffle Ball! This I love! This is my favorite haiku from this book and it is because it reminds me of my brother. I am not certain if Ketchek played whiffle ball when he was a kid or if he writes of this because he has a son, but this brings back hundreds of memories for me.

I have a brother who is three years younger than me. Even though he was younger I always tried to include him when I would play anything. I enjoyed teaching him tricks of the trade that I picked up from the older boys. One game that we really enjoyed was playing whiffle ball in our back yard.

To set the stage allow me to describe our playing field. The backyard was nearly a perfect square so placing a white paper plate in one corner gave us a beautiful diamond to play on. Right in the middle of the yard was a gazebo that my father and I built. Directly in front of the gazebo is where we played a piece of a 2x4 for a pitcher's mound.

The bases were all very crude. First base was a concrete pad by the back door to the garage. When one of us hit the ball the way to get the other person out was to run to the ball and yell "Out" before they reached the base. Second base was a paper plate being held down by a rock or two. Third base was a tree. We would slap the trunk of the tree as we ran by to round this base.

Since my brother was younger than me I would always take it easy on him. When he was up to bat I would toss him easy pitches to hit so the games would be even. I would even remember fake falling down while he would run to first so that he would get a hit. It made him very happy and so I never told him I did it on purpose.

When hitting, I would bat left handed. At first this did a pretty good job to even things up but over time I got really good at it. In fact I got so good at it that in baseball I became a switch hitter. Eventually I even taught my brother to hit both ways and he too was quite good at it.

When Ketchek talks about how wind blows a home run over the neighbor's car I think about our home run fences. The left field fence was our house. If it landed on the roof the ball was in play and the pitching team could catch it for an out. If the ball went over the house in the air it was a home run.

The right field fence was just our fence, but beyond that was our neighbor's large two story red brick house with ivy growing up the side. My brother and I were both Cub fans and would pretend that their house was the wall at Wrigley field since it had the ivy. I remember hitting left handed I would always try to hit one on top of their roof. I did it a few times but it was quite a poke to hit one that far.

My brother and I enjoyed playing whiffle ball in our yard so much that we even played from time to time when we were in high school. Even when we played as older kids we would still use the same rules and I would always bat left handed to make things even!

References

Dillon, M. (2007). Baseball Haiku, (p. 91). New York: W.W. Norton & Company.

Goodrich, B. (2007). Baseball Haiku, (p. 7). New York: W.W. Norton & Company.

Ketchek, M. (2007). Baseball Haiku, (p. 122). New York: W.W. Norton & Company.

Markowski, E. (2007). Baseball Haiku, (p. 107). New York: W.W. Norton & Company.

van den Heuvel, C. (2007). Baseball Haiku, (pp. 15,17). New York: W.W. Norton & Company.