Baseball Poetry

It was 1993, and the seventh game of the National League championship series.  It was bottom of the 9th inning.  The game was tied 2-2, and Atlanta was down to its last out of the inning.  Francisco Cabrera singles to left and sends former pirate Sid Bream home sliding just ahead of the throw from Barry Bonds to catcher Mike LaValliere to win the game.  This is the event that sent the Pirates down a road of 20 years of losing, which is about to come to an end this year.

My Heart Did Not Burst

my heart did not burst

when ex-Buc Sid Bream

slid his dirty slide

all over the once white plate

just past our pudgy catcher's

too late tag

and the umpire

in the same instant spread both arms

in either direction

signaling an end to world serious hope

for my precious Pirates

my nerves did not snap

despite eight and two-thirds frames

of tension

I did my deepest breathing to relax

control I did not have

over loaded bases and balls that were strikes

that were not called

in the bottom of the 9th

at the unlikely sound

of Francisco Cabrera's homicidal single

my brain did not crack

under tons of promise and possibilities

that twist and untwist but can never undo

the undisputed truth

of 3-2

my arms did not rip

the TV from its cabinet

I could not shatter

the televised outcome

It happened, like a bad wreck

I could not help but watch

the explosion of Atlanta madness

I wished was mine, ours

days, months after the damage

Happened

- Frank Bienkowski (Pittsburgh musician, Ambridge native, die-hard Pirates fan), April 1993.