Baseball is big. I don't know

why, seeing that it's about as slow-moving as a city worker on Monday.

I guess it has been mandated forever, though, since it was mentioned in

the Bible, ("In the big-inning ..."). Personally I gave up on

the sport years ago when the Braves stopped selling general admission

tickets behind the left field wall.

I have firsthand experience,

too, as I spent my high school years playing first base. First base is

one of the most active positions, and still I found time on the field

to do my algebra homework and make goo-goo eyes at Donna Mitchum. (And

no, she didn't goo-goo back.)

Nevertheless, I hope baseball

gets what it deserves for its steroid-fueled, greed-invested, grabfest.

Whether they strike or not, we yet again see what big time sports are

all about. With this in mind, I offer my fantasy for the family in a poem

in the style of "Casey at the Bat."

The outlook wasn't so brilliant

for the Atlanta Braves that day.

The score stood 4 to 2 with

just one inning more to play.

Then when his chips were but

crumbs and his Coke was all gone,

The man gazed out the window

at his two-foot-high, unmowed lawn.

His wife tapped her foot in

deep despair ... and told him,

"You haven't bathed in

days nor combed your hair."

She clung to the hope that

he would do his chores,

But then he pushed right by

her to see the Braves had scored!

Chipper came to bat and Andruw

stood at third;

The former was a slugger, the

latter was a bird.

He fell back in his recliner

and chimed for another soda.

Sheffield waved his bat like

a saber in the hands of Yoda.

So up upon his children ...

grim melancholy sat

To see another Saturday pass

... dad in his chair in his baseball hat.

The mom and kids stood lonely

as Lopez laid down a bunt.

Nothing could be so terrific

... the Braves are in the hunt.

And now it had come to this

as the Bravo raced for home,

This could tie the contest

... a game worthy of a poem.

The kids were tugging at him

as he tried to see the screen,

And then suddenly it happened

... the reckoning extreme.

Oh somewhere in this favored

land the Braves are in extra innings,

Crowds still do the wave ...

the fat lady can't start her singing,

And somewhere a man is laughing

and little children shout,

For there is joy in Homeville,

for this family has gone out.

[Contact Billy Murphy via

e-mail: [email protected].]