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Team Flame nine fires in the game
Some batters arrive at the plate carrying heft. Some bring grace. Some survive enough innings to become myth. They’re all here and part of Team Flame. Nine batters in burnings and meditations, spirits and fires, spectacles and labors, longings and memories. They are dangerous poetic beautiful. Bodies on fire, smoking bats. Arms on fire, blazing flames. At the plate: combustions, strikeouts,…
TEAM FLAME a Hermit Crab essay in a baseball lineup card
Nine At-Bats BATTING NINTH Number 68, Pitcher, FLAME THROWER (Coaches note: don’t expect much, a hit is a miracle) I’ve still not seen the burning bush, but I do see small flames, even miracles from STORYTELLERS: All those listening. All those walking. All those meditating. All those making music. All those riding bicycles. All those Mother Joneses. All those practicing yoga. All those…
TEAM FLAME, a Hermit Crab essay in a baseball lineup card
Nine At-Bats in a Lineup Card BATTING EIGHTH Number 21, Catcher, BURNING CIVILIZATION (Coaches note: all we ask, coyote catcher, is put the ball in play) Now another heat covers the land. Political heat and the burning outrage economy. The modern world, accelerating into bigger combustions and: faster newsfaster angerfaster collapsefaster forgetting. And on July 4, every child with a…
TEAM FLAME, a Hermit Crab Essay in a baseball lineup card
Nine At-Bats BATTING SEVENTH Number 12, Second Base, FALSE FIRE (Coaches note: known for the glove and turning the double play) I spent years looking for the dramatic burning bush while overlooking the smaller flames surrounding me. The welder’s torch.Lantern light at the cabin.Woodstoves in February.The flare of match heads.Campfire smoke and flame registered in flannel jackets.The orange…
TEAM FLAME, A Hermit Crab Essay in a Baseball Card
Nine At-Bats in a Lineup Card BATTING SIXTH Number 97, Center Field, SHAPESHIFTER (Coaches note: the sneakiest batter in the lineup) Walking behind him in New Delhi, he turned and laughed at me. His brown buttocks visible through threadbare pants, a thrush testing the limits of cover. He turned into an alley. Fifteen seconds later I followed. He was gone. No doors.No windows.No exits. A…
TEAM FLAME, A Hermit Crab Essay in a baseball lineup card
Nine at bats. BATTING FIFTH Number 97, Center Field, Shapeshifter (Coaches note: all hit or miss, takes a big swing) Sitting on rocks, I recalled Gary Snyder’s line: “The closer you get to real matter — rock, air, fire, wood — the more spiritual the world is.” Under the tree and above the hard ground, matter and spirit no longer seemed separate categories. In Wyoming’s Red Desert, I was not…
TEAM FLAME, A Hermit Crab Essay in a baseball lineup card
A Hermit Crab Essay, Nine At-Bats in a Lineup Card BATTING CLEANUP Number 14, First Base, Antelope Ranch (Coaches note: power and contact) Motorcycling headlong into July’s hot wind, I was nearly there when I turned onto a dirt road and rumbled fifteen miles over boulders and ditches strewn with whitewashed bones: antelope skeletons, scattered ribs, skulls bleached by sun. I was on the way…
TEAM FLAME, A Hermit Crab Essay in a baseball lineup card
A Hermit Crab Essay, Nine At-Bats in a Lineup Card BATTING THIRD Number 5, Third Base, Coal (Coaches note: the best hitter) In the lineup’s three hole, the hitter must have power and make contact. In the summer season of my life, when I was full of velocity and ambition, I was that power aiming for contact whenever heat met me and drove me forth in radiant passages. In ways, I was Hopkins’…
