“The greatest ballplayer of all time? I pick the Detroit man because he is, in my judgment, the most expert man in his profession and is able to respond better than any other ballplayer to any demand made on him. He plays ball with his whole anatomy—his head, his arms, his hands, his legs, his feet. I have never seen a man who had his heart more centered in a sport than Cobb has when he’s playing. I believe Cobb would continue to play ball if he were charged something for the privilege, and if the only spectator were the groundskeeper.” — Charles Comiskey, The Chicago Tribune (1910)

Following the torque of his flowing swing
crack of leather on wood
quick as a flicked flint shard –
arrogantly, he claims his ground
beside the cushioned base
flanked by challengers,
where to his right, angled paths unfold –
he owns and defends his space.

Ferric, smug, a murmuring, turbine hum,
whispering voltage, a cadent thrum,
he becomes set to hunt like Peregrine –
a sudden stoop, like motoring gears
powered by the whir of pistons guised as limbs
in jagged sprints – almost aerial.

Currents beneath wool, cloaked in cloth
of Detroit white – shadow gray,
he gathers speed, searing in summer light.
What was unseen now revealed –
polarizing the eye, rousing the crowd to surge
cutting the field with seeds of lore.

***

Steven Visintainer is an educator, writer, and graduate of Hunter College, CUNY. Born in Brooklyn and raised on the Brooklyn/Queens border of Ridgewood, he is an Italian American of Trentino ancestry with family roots in the Val di Non region. Visintainer explores themes of memory, nostalgia, nature, and the raw architecture of New York City, past and present. A lover of baseball history, he has written works on the Deadball Era and the classic Brooklyn Dodgers-New York Giants rivalry.