In baseball, when you screw up and let a ball go through your legs, there’s no going back and fixing it. You hate yourself for a while, try to look confident, and pray to god it doesn’t lead to any runs. Thankfully, when you screw up in blogging, there’s an easy way to fix it. Just write another post. Hopefully this won’t be a recurring feature.

And with that in mind, two apologies:

First to Ted Walker of Waiting For Berkman. Sorry for calling you Ted Miller the other day. And thanks for politely not mentioning it.

Second to the ghost of William Carlos Williams. Commenter Mick points out that I only included part of Williams’ poem The Crowd At The Ballgame in a Poem Of The Week post way back in March. It was a sloppy cut/paste error on my part, and I’ve reproduced the poem in full below. It’s worth a read:

The crowd at the ball game
is moved uniformly

by a spirit of uselessness
which delights them–

all the exciting detail
of the chase

and the escape, the error
the flash of genuis–

all to no end save beauty
the eternal–

So in detail they, the crowd,
are beautiful

for this
to be warned against

saluted and defied–
It is alive, venomous

it smiles grimly
its words cut–

The flashy female with her
mother, gets it–

The Jew gets it straight–it
is deadly, terrifying–

It is the Inquisition, the

It is beauty itself
that lives

day by day in them

This is
the power of their faces

It is summer, it is the solstice
the crowd is

cheering, the crowd is laughing
in detail

permanently, seriously
without thought

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