to Madame George: oh yes
a G-C-D song if I ever did weave one
into mine own brainpan,
when you fall into a trance,
games of chance,
So it is with my orange catcher’s equipment
I have written elsewhere about my passion for this particular bag, which I still feel. I’m letting it go anyway because the time has come. We have bid each other a fond farewell, as first reported by OGMRGO in The Sun.
However, I’m not letting go of a 32 ounce blonde bamboo bat that still has mucho clout. That thing is a club and it ain’t goin’ nowhere.
I’m also not letting go of my scrappy Mizuno black all-purpose fielding glove because I have and still can field any position with it.
I am letting go of my orange catcher’s mitt. Let others catch with that mitt, now. He’s all broken in, fired up, ready to go.
I am keeping my black Rawlings Heart of the Hide (TM) catcher’s mitt. This target ain’t moving. This target is right here; I’m still pounding it, still not finished breaking it in.
What I really want in the heARt Of MY OwN hide is, after this pandemic simmers down, to loft fungoes down at Crenshaw or anywhere else people will let me swat fungoes at ballplayers. Tennis balls work extremely well for this purpose, as drilling on catching high-lofted tennis balls can improve both courage and coordination.
In addition to the pleasure and honor of being a Fungo Coach, I believe being able to get a read on a thing in flight: that’s good prep for falconry!