Verse

I love poetry, but can’t write. I love baseball, but can’t play anymore. Now I have a blog. My last two posts reminded me of some of my favorite verse.

On Tuesday, I wrote about what the Yankees mean to Mahamadou from Highbridge and what people like Mahamadou mean to the Yankees. It got me thinking about these lines from The Death of the Hired Man, by Robert Frost:
Home is the place where,
When you have to go there,
They have to take you.

Yesterday, I was forced to address the sorry state of Major League Baseball’s confidential drug testing program for amphetamines. We now know there is nothing confidential about the program and it is really little more than an extortion racket run out of the Commissioner’s Office on Park Avenue.

It reminded me of Martin Niemöller’s famous and often altered words:
First they came for the Socialists, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me, and there was no one left
to speak up for me.

I would tweak it to say:
First they came for Barry Bonds, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t Bonds.
Then they came for Jason Giambi, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t Giambi.
Then they came for those opposing them, and I didn’t speak up,
because I was afraid.
Then they came for the game, and there was no one left
to speak up for any of us.

Baseball deserves better from all of us.