Re-membering Roger Angel and all other poet laureates, playing managers and fierce famous Nines of America’s beautiful game
This is a homage to Poet Laureate of Americas beautiful and endless game of baseball, Roger Angell, and all other good old souls, radical new saints and astonishing unique and revolutionary common sense sinners of primary colors and teams of Dodger Blue, Boston Strong and Beloved Red, White and Blue Nationals and wondrous same holy selves and all wholly others of uncanny, instinctive and righteously moral sense to hate, despise and throw all New York once majestic but now bumbs Yankees out of the park,
And thus is the waving and roaring and crowded stands filled with good fathers, good morhers, good sons and daughters of an entangled cousinry and rivalry together of saints, angells, souls, and some fiendish yankees and connecticut lawyers tossed in, here, there and everywhere