Tagged: W.S. Merwin

Same blog, new look

Well, long time no see.  I apologize for what regrettably seems to be a consistent pattern of not posting entries on here as much as I should, but in this instance I actually have a legitimate excuse.  As you will know if you read my previous entry, I was traded from the Cleveland Indians to the Oakland Athletics on May 10th/11th and since then have been in the process of putting my affairs in order, driving across the country, finding living accommodations, putting my affairs back in order again, and trying to get my bearings back after a whirlwind two weeks.  There is also the interesting problem of this blog’s address being linked to the Indians, whom I no longer play for.  After considering it (briefly) I decided to just change the color scheme on here and keep it going, under the assumption that not enough people visit this blog for anyone to particularly care.  Anyhow, the last two weeks have been a very strange experience.  First of all, before I even got to Midland, TX I found out that one of my new teammates with the RockHounds was going to be one of my old teammates/roommates Ryan Edell, which has made the whole transition to a new organization a little bit easier (my other ex-roommate Erik Stiller is actually playing for Corpus Christi, the opposing team in our current series so the gang is back together so to speak).  Speaking of which, the transition from one organization to another has been both fairly smooth and kind of akward.  All of the basics are the same; you throw, run, lift, do shoulder programs, and play, but each organization has different ideas, philosophies and points of emphasis so after five years in one system it feels a little weird to be adapting to another one.  I feel like I’m in the wrong place a lot of the time, but as I’m here a while things will feel more and more natural.  Away from the field there has been precious little to report (unless of course you would like to hear the details of my housing search).  I’m currently plugging through Lars Brownworth’s history of the Bysantine empire, Lost to the West as well as Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything, which is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.  Anyhow, I’m going to stop writing before I bore everyone to death and as always, before you go enjoy a poem on me.


White Note

By W.S. Merwin


Autumn comes early this year

the last morning of August

fog fills the valley clouding

the late roses and the scent

of wet leaves floats in the light

one day after the full moon

it is the time of going

small flocks of migrant birds catch

like strands of wool in the trees

west of the village and wait

for something to remind them

of the journey and their own

way and when the fog lifts

they have gone and with them the days

of summer have vanished

and the leaves here and there begin

taking to themselves

the colors of sunlight

to keep them

Same Old Song and Dance

Hello again out there in cyberspace.  Sorry for the absences of just more than a week, but during spring training time can be rather tricky.  Because of its eerie resemblance to Groundhog Day (everyday being the same as the last and all) it is often hard to keep track of exactly what day certain happened.  Like, for example, what day a blog entry was written.  Oh well.  Since I last checked in I have had three appearances, one poor and two good.  The first was a poor game against the Dodgers that was basically a result of not throwing enough consistent strikes, but I have been much better in my two subsequent outings.  In two games against the Brewers and Reds I threw two scoreless innings, gave up only one hit, had a few strikeouts, and most importantly was throwing consistent strikes.  Obviously a poor outing is never something to look forward to, but the with the tally standing at three strong outings to one poor one and given that it is spring training and some ups and downs are to be expected I feel fairly satisfied with my spring performance so far.  I have also been given the opportunity to travel with the major league team to Los Angeles to play the Dodgers in an exhibition game at Dodger Stadium on Thursday, which should be a fun experience.  I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes next update.


Away from the field I have been spending most of my time cleaning up, packing and generally preparing to break camp when spring training ends this coming Sunday.  I did manage to take in the Tempe Festival of the Arts on Sunday and actually bought an interesting metal and glass sculpture/coffee table from a couple from Cordelaine, Idaho.  As with most art festivals there was a mix of very interesting and terrible stalls and everything in between, but on the whole I thoroughly enjoyed it.  In addition to the major pluses of being free and not being in Scottsdale, it was extremely large and well organized so there was a lot to see and a much higher proportion of attention-worthy displays.  It was fun seeing some new pieces by some of the artists I enjoyed from last year’s festival and overall it was just a great experience and I’d recommend taking it in if you’re ever around Phoenix in March.  As always I’m still spending most of my clubhouse time glued to a book and at present I’m chipping away at both Empire Falls by Richard Russo and The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan.  I finished off a couple of Pulitzer Prize winning books of poetry in Shadow of Sirius by W.S. Merwin and Late Wife by Claudia Emerson.  Well, I guess  I should get to bed so I can be well rested for another early day at the field tomorrow, so I’ll leave you with a poem and catch you on the flip side.


A Momentary Creed

By W.S. Merwin


I believe in the ordinary day

that is here at this moment and is me


I do not see it going its own way

but I never saw how it came to me


it extends beyond whatever I may

think I know and all that is real to me


it is the present that it bears away

where it has gone when it has gone from me


there is not place I know outside today

except for the unknown all around me


the only presence that appears to stay

everything that I call mine it lent me


even the way that I believe the day

for as long as it is here and is me