The whole thing was tainted after the scandal.
Kennesaw Mountain Landis, former judge,
Simple man (perfect for daytime TV)
With a black and white sense of what should persist
Ignored the courts, walked up, took the bat handle
Out of Jackson’s hands. The integrity
Of the game he was after; any hedge
Perceived would not have been the best interest.

But Joe had no errors, and more hits — twelve —
Than anyone before or since that year’s
World Series. Catch and throw. Swing and hit.
A baseball record diamond-pure, pristine —
But the Mountain stood and wouldn’t give a bit
Because a judge who makes his mark requires
The larger sense and nothing in between;
He mutilates before he serves two selves.

So Joe spent thirty years behind a counter
Swapping quarts for money, making change
Below his name, perhaps a little banter –
“Say it ain’t so, Joe” (apocryphal tale –
The lowered head, testament to lost glory –
A newsman’s grander sense that helped arrange
His own career). Joe never gave his story,
But sold them spirit the same way he threw baseballs.

***

Sam Robertson teaches English at Suffolk Community College. He and his wife, along with their three young children, like to spend much of the summer hiking and swimming in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. His poems have appeared in Literary Imagination, Barrow Street, and The Dalhousie Review.