The ball deflects off of the goalpost. "Oh!"
-A shout from one who never seemed a fan
Not even of the game that we both know
So much more well: he's not a cheering man.

But I too watch and flinch-and yet don't care.
The winner of the match has no import
In my mind. Nationalism can scare
Before it excites. This is not my sport.

Or is that just because I lack a side?
What he has done for baseball, surely I
Can do for this. I don't need to take pride
In any exploits, and it won't hurt my

Tentative appreciation. "Homeland"
Doesn't matter if I can understand.

Of excellence there's not much to be said.
At some point, words fail to encapsulate
The subjects of numbers' domain. Instead,
We speak of what we cannot calculate.

Within each asterisk, a story hides.
The "almost"s at the bottom of the list
Reveal strict definitions' other sides:
Exceptions that unbending rules have missed.

So moving past the terminology
Unlocks a blurry dream. To freeze the air
And put it into words is not easy
But without other options, still we dare

To transcend the scorecard. It takes the bold
To tell what cannot otherwise be told.

What happens when a switch-hitter steps up to the plate against a switch-PITCHER? Well, your basic confusion and mayhem.

Staten Island Yankees pitcher Pat Venditte is able to pitch with either hand (quite well in fact). In last night's game against the Brooklyn Cyclones, Venditte faced the first two batters of the ninth as a right-handed pitcher. Then, switch-hitting Ralph Henriquez came to the plate to bat from the left side. Venditte switched his custom-made, six-finger glove to his right hand and prepared to pitch lefty. Henriquez then turned around to bat right-handed. The two players switched sides several times before umpires stepped in to discuss the issue.

After several minutes, they forced Henriquez to choose a side first; he chose to bat righty and struck out against the right-handed pitching Venditte. The rule in place states that the pitcher must declare which arm he will pitch with before the batter steps to the plate. He cannot change arms once the at-bat has begun.

Here's video of the sordid ordeal ...

If after our late-season swoon,
Our team plays aloofly through June,
He should be dismissed.
You think he'll resist
A release by the light of the moon?