Thirteen Ways of Looking at Half-Rubber.

Smith, Ron

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Half-Rubber

--Dedicated to Dale Ritterbusch, Mark Noe, Scott Peterson,
Julie Tretiak, and IK Smith

I

   Among twenty Georgia pastimes,
   The only one that moves me now
   Is the game of half-rubber.

II

   You need three players only,
   Each player a Trinity of skills,
   Each player his own full team.

III

   The dome zipped in the summer sun,
   A blur--half there, half air.

IV

   A pitcher and a catcher
   Is catch.
   A pitcher and a catcher and a batter
   Is a tournament.

V

   I do not know which to prefer,
   The beauty of the sharp curve
   Or the beauty of the quick riser,
   The broomstick whistling
   Or just after.

VI

   Humidity filled the little yard
   With barbaric yawps.
   The shadow circle, oval
   Crossed the grass, to and fro.
   The mood
   Traced in the shadow
   Eternal youth.

VII

   O bony boys of Chatham County,
   Why do you imagine the major leagues?
   Do you not see how this mezzo marvel
   Makes the gods pause
   To look at you?

VIII

   I know the oiled glove
   And the joy of running bases;
   But I know, too,
   That the half-rubber is involved
   In what I know.

IX

   When he made that diving catch,
   Start became famous
   To a small circle.

X

   At the sight of Haskell's fastball
   Flattening out,
   Even Yankee scouts
   Would cry out sharply.

XI

   My father took a bus to Parris Island,
   Sick of cropping tobacco.
   Once, a fear pierced him,
   In that he doubted
   Half-rubbers ever flew
   North of Georgia.

XII

   The half-rubber is flying.
   The war must be over.

XIII

   It was game time all afternoon.
   I was throwing
   And I was going to throw.
   My father caught
   Everything I threw.