Marianne Moore: “Baseball and Writing”

Fanaticism?No.Writing is exciting
and baseball is like writing.
You can never tell with either
how it will go
or what you will do;
generating excitement–
a fever in the victim–
pitcher, catcher, fielder, batter.
Victim in what category?
Owlman watching from the press box?
To whom does it apply?
Who is excited?Might it be I?

It’s a pitcher’s battle all the way–a duel–
a catcher’s, as, with cruel
puma paw, Elston Howard lumbers lightly
back to plate.(His spring
de-winged a bat swing.)
They have that killer instinct;
yet Elston–whose catching
arm has hurt them all with the bat–
when questioned, says, unenviously,
“I’m very satisfied.We won.”
Shorn of the batting crown, says, “We”;
robbed by a technicality.

When three players on a side play three positions
and modify conditions,
the massive run need not be everything.
“Going, going . . . “Is
it?Roger Maris
has it, running fast.You will
never see a finer catch.Well . . .
“Mickey, leaping like the devil”–why
gild it, although deer sounds better–
snares what was speeding towards its treetop nest,
one-handing the souvenir-to-be
meant to be caught by you or me.

Assign Yogi Berra to Cape Canaveral;
he could handle any missile.
He is no feather.”Strike! . . . Strike two!”
Fouled back.A blur.
It’s gone.You would infer
that the bat had eyes.
He put the wood to that one.
Praised, Skowron says, “Thanks, Mel.
I think I helped a little bit.”
All business, each, and modesty.
Blanchard, Richardson, Kubek, Boyer.
In that galaxy of nine, say which
won the pennant?Each.It was he.

Those two magnificent saves from the knee-throws
by Boyer, finesses in twos–
like Whitey’s three kinds of pitch and pre-
diagnosis
with pick-off psychosis.
Pitching is a large subject.
Your arm, too true at first, can learn to
catch your corners–even trouble
Mickey Mantle.(“Grazed a Yankee!
My baby pitcher, Montejo!”
With some pedagogy,
you’ll be tough, premature prodigy.)

They crowd him and curve him and aim for the knees.Trying
indeed!The secret implying:
“I can stand here, bat held steady.”
One may suit him;
none has hit him.
Imponderables smite him.
Muscle kinks, infections, spike wounds
require food, rest, respite from ruffians.(Drat it!
Celebrity costs privacy!)
Cow’s milk, “tiger’s milk,” soy milk, carrot juice,
brewer’s yeast (high-potency–
concentrates presage victory

sped by Luis Arroyo, Hector Lopez–
deadly in a pinch.And “Yes,
it’s work; I want you to bear down,
but enjoy it
while you’re doing it.”
Mr. Houk and Mr. Sain,
if you have a rummage sale,
don’t sell Roland Sheldon or Tom Tresh.
Studded with stars in belt and crown,
the Stadium is an adastrium.
O flashing Orion,
your stars are muscled like the lion.

This poem took a lot of re-reading to finally gain a grasp on.  It seems to me that Moore was inspired to write this poem while listening to the pressbox “owlman” commentated the game on the radio.  Because she cannot see the game, she has to rely on only the commentator. This is the same as writing – the audience can rely only the author. Perhaps this is what makes it so exciting, so thrilling, and so suspenseful. 

My first attempts at understanding were made when I began to organize each stanza  by player. When Moore mentions the “victims” – pitcher, catcher, fielder, batter, I started to see how every stanza described actions by a different position. There was no specific order to these stanzas however – catcher, fielder, catcher, batter, pitcher…. but then I began to realize that if she is writing according to a game, then games are always spontaneous so her writing must be too.  Then I researched the 16 different names mentioned in the poem for similarities or differences – all players are from the Yankees and Moore was an avid Yankee fan.

Another thing that I became aware of was Moore’s usage of animal and star imagery.  When describing the players, Moore refers to their “killer instinct,” “puma paw,” “muscled like a lion,” bird imagery, and the deer imagery refering to Mickey Mantle.  Many of the actions are preditary. Moore talks a lot of the “galaxy” of nine and the consetllations.

Still befuddled, I went through the poem line by line to see what I could figure out. Moore leaves a lot up to interpretations, such as “victim” in the first stanza. I realized that all players can be “victims” because each position can fall victim if they throw the wrong pitch or fail to get a hit. The owlman can also be a victim if the game is too boring for him to talk about.  In the next stanza, she mentions Elston Howeard (the first black player) who was “shorn of the batting crown” – this actually happened when Howard didn’t win the batting title one year because of his race, or a “technicality.  Howard was a catcher.  The three players mentioned next are fielders, and then in the 4th stanza she assigns Yogi Berra to Cape Canaveral (home to the Kennedy Space Center which deals with missiles) because he can handle any missle, which we can assume are pitches.  The next few stanzas are staight forward – the game continues.  In the 8th stanza, somebody says “yes, it’s work; I want you to bear down, but enjoy it while you’re doing it.” This resonated with me as comparable to writing. Both baseball and writing are difficult and with challenges, but the author should enjoy himself/herself while performing. The same goes for a good reader – it is hard work to read a poem, however it can be enjoyable. Moore also mentioned the “technicalities” of baseball, and how different players are made victims by them.  Similarily, writers must always worry about these technicalities as well. When both player and writer must be aware of these technicalities, then they cannot just play/write however they want – so, in essence, a bit of the fun and passion is lost.

The last stanza gave me a lot of trouble because I couldn’t figure out what an “adastrium” was.  The stadium is studded with stars, being players, who make up a constellation of Orion with belt and crown. The belt refers to the three stars (the three outfielders) and the crown can be taken to mean vicotry. Orion is also known as the “hunter” which brings together all of the hunting and animal imagery. These players are muscled like a lion, meaning they are strong. I couldn’t find the definition of “adastrium” anywhere, so I began to look into Latin roots. “Ad astra” means to the stars; I knew this from a Latin saying that my teacher had drilled into my head “ad astra per aspera” meaning to the stars through diffculty.  This is a good closing to the poem because it brings together all comparisions about writing and baseball: both are difficult, but in the end, the end point is enjoyable and worth it.