fugly goes semipro

a rough, narrow, tree lined road

(state didn't even number this one)

opens to houses and farms.

turn into a residential driveway and

you're kidding!

this field's behind a HOUSE-

it belongs in a colloquial dictionary

under 'middle of nowhere'.

ramshackle stands held upright by

little money, much spit, and more work

are bordered by trees and tobacco.

outfield fence is made of tin pieces;

mostly signs nailed together at odd places.

'I'd walk a mile for a CameL HOUSE COFFEE...

GOOD TO THeechnut Chewing Tobacco'

second base smells rightfield's breath.

if this ain't the home of Chinese dingers

Mao hailed from Hoboken.

it's also home to the Jason Yellowjackets,

best bargain in whereweat?

fork up two bucks and i n h a l e

that sizzley savor of grilling chicken!

sing along with Aretha r-e-s-p-e-c-t

join in black authored trash talk

and see ball augmenting with earnestness

what it lacks in artistry.

These farmers and millhands and students

play by the Old Testament.

today's a double header.

(every Sunday is)

when the enemy first baseman

tries to slice our first sacker's calve

we ride that dirty so and so

the rest of game one and into the next.

then our guy hits to short;

on a high throw the first baseman reaaaaches

wham!

gotcha back, didn' he sucka?

Yellowjackets' manager Bam Pridgen

grins like a mule eating briers.

Somewhere

Satchel and Smokey Joe grin too.

Jason splits 3-5 and 2-0 but who cares?

we wuz BALLIN'!

Daniel Grey Taylor

(for David)