To mark the start of the baseball postseason, I've put together this postseason quiz, which is both a short test about baseball in October and an homage to pitcher-poet
Quisenberry died of brain cancer on the day before October in 1998 and is now interred at Mount Moriah Cemetery, where one of his fellow residents is
It was Quisenberry who said of eternity: "I have seen the future and it's much like the present, only longer." So here's to the Quiz. And now to the quiz:
No. On May 7, 1993, in the bottom of the fifth inning of an Angels-A's game in Anaheim, Oakland reliever
A year later, on June 9, 1994, Davis was pitching for the Tigers against the Angels in Anaheim. In the bottom of the eighth inning, with a 6-4 lead, one out and nobody on, Davis and Snow met again. This time Snow singled sharply to left, and Davis was promptly pulled from the game. Within two months, Davis would retire. The Snow-Storm epic would end, after two at-bats, in a draw.
You certainly may. Pencils down. Stretch your fingers and contemplate this: "Study break" is a pure, perfect anagram of "
Dusty Baker is the manager of the Cincinnati Reds, who made the postseason for the first time since 1995, touching off a gleeful celebration in the Reds' clubhouse, where owner
The birth of a child is one of the few occasions in life more joyous than a baseball celebration. Still, the Cincinnati Health Department received a handful of complaints that the Reds owner and various players were puffing on stogies in the ballpark, violating Ohio's statewide smoking ban.
What health officials failed to recognize is that baseball celebrations are beyond the law -- the laws of man and the laws of physics. These are the best things about October: The hogpiles, the dogpiles, the pigpiles -- those human heaps of spikes and sunflower shells and other sharp objects from which players almost always emerge unscathed.
Baseball celebrations, with their champagne shampoos, make me think of Quisenberry's poem about
As I await these baseball playoffs -- and the birth of a child, due the day of Game 7 of the ALCS, possibly at Target Field in Minneapolis -- I'm thinking of congratulatory cigars of every kind, and of celebrations above baseball. I'm thinking of champagne, but also of a life beyond it.
I'm thinking of the late Dan Quisenberry, who wrote, in a poem called