Archdeacon Howard Stringfellow
14 January 2011
[Revised slightly, Jan. 18]
The temperature is 29. Snow lies on the ground, and ice grips the streets. I am wearing a wool shirt over a wool tee-shirt. But there is hope.
A friend gave me a few weeks ago a photograph signed "Juan Marichal HOF 83." The "27," black outlined in orange with white piping, is emblazoned on the back of the grey jersey uncontaminated by a name, and his left foot, at a perfect right angle from his leg, reaches high in the sky, higher than his head with his eyes fixed on his prey. A bit of daylight slivers between the stirrup and the sanitary stocking just above the inner portion of his right ankle. The grass around the mound is verdant, and the infield is smooth. The sun shines. The photograph catches the split of a second before a devastating pitch hurtles toward home plate as skill touches art in the game where the defense holds the ball and gives the offense just a split of a second to seize the opportunity to be and to score.
Pitchers and catchers report one month from today.

I think I remember that he hit Johnny Roseboro of the Dodgers ending his career.
Also have a copy of your article from last year.
When you came to GSC last year, I asked you where baseball was mentioned first mentioned in the Bible.
Al Albinson
Posted by: A. Albinson | January 17, 2011 at 03:00 PM