The game of baseball has a special place in my heart. The crack of a bat connecting with a baseball
invites dreamy memories.
In the 1950’s, when I was a young kid, my busy mother took me, just me, to watch baseball games in
Labatt’s Memorial Park in London Ontario. I looked it up and see that it is the oldest continually
operating baseball grounds in the world. My mother probably went to games there when she was a
child.
My brothers and little sister stayed home with the housekeeper while my mother and I talked about the
game, the players, the crowd, the fading daylight and the thrill we felt when the stadium lights flashed
on.
I never played anything but school and neighbourhood pick up baseball. I was not a fan of particular
players or teams. But — I have always loved the ‘laid-back’ look of baseball players. As I grew older I
assumed that they drank beer together and slouched on sofas while they watched TV.
The other thing that I have always liked is the way time is mysterious in baseball. There can be ‘time-
outs’ and, every year no-one knows when the World Series is ‘over’ till it’s over.
Below is the first sestina I ever wrote. I wrote the first part of it while I was studying theology and
spirituality and our children were mostly at home with us. I wrote the last three lines, which make it a
true sestina, just a few years ago.
It was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it. On an earlier blog there are instructions for writing a sestina.
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