Ever
wonder about the origin of the adjective “batty”? Webster’s
New College
World Dictionary, 4th Edition defines it as “crazy or
eccentric”. I probably am a “bit batty” myself. My fantasy baseball team is named the Mad Batters.
On most
summer nights at Merry Mount, I experience bats. At twilight on a lovely clear evening, I can
be found walking the property to experience the beauty around me. I often observe the colony of bats, one by
one, departing the loft of the barn.
Bats are the only mammals that can fly. They are also among the
only mammals known to feed on blood. Common misconceptions and fears about bats
have led many people to regard the creatures as unclean disease carriers, but
bats are actually very helpful in controlling the population of crop-destroying
insects.
There are more
than 900 species of bats in the world. Some experts estimate the number to be
as high as 1,200 species. Bats make up one-fifth of the mammal population on
Earth, according to Bat Conservation
International.
https://www.livescience.com/28272-bats.html
I Wish I Could Be A Bat
It’s a thrilling thing to
watch
The bats fly out of the caves
At twilight.
Their dawn of day and play
To cover the land
At twilight.
Look up at their silhouettes
On the pink and orange sunset
At twilight.
Just about as happy as it
gets,
This murmur of love and
freedom,
At twilight.
I wish that I could be
A bat flying free from my
dark cave,
Into the light, just
once
At twilight.
-Sunlite Wanter
 |
| A bat in hand at sunset. Wink. |
After sunset, I return to the house to watch our favorite baseball
team, the Atlanta Braves. The game, of
course, is essentially about bats and
balls.
I ask you, "How much skill is involved to put
the “sweet spot” of the bat on a ball coming at you at 80-100 miles an hour, or
how much skill is involved in delivering a ball across a home plate that is a 17-inch square of
whitened rubber with two of the corners removed so that one edge is 17 inches long, two
adjacent sides are 8 1/2 inches each and the remaining two sides
are 12 inches each and set at an angle to make a point?"
I’m batty
about baseball.
"Lumber" is an often-used slang
term for a bat, especially when wielded by a particularly able batter.
The "bat drop" of a bat is its
weight, in ounces, minus its length, in inches. For example, a 30-ounce,
33-inch-long bat has a bat drop of minus 3 (30 − 33 = −3). Larger bat drops help to increase swing speed. Bats
with smaller drops create more power.
-Wikipedia
If you
find yourself a member of the Woliver family, you are taught from an early age
how to swing a bat. It is, for us, a since
of pride.
 |
| Simon about to swing the bat at Huntington Park, Columbus |
 |
| Eva learning young |
 |
| Three generations of baseball fans |
I share
with you a cartoon that I discovered in the cartoon library at OSU. It obviously speaks of the importance of
baseball in the state of Ohio.
I leave
you with an iconic poem about swinging the bat.
Enjoy!
Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©
|
Published: The Examiner (06-03-1888)
|
The Outlook wasn't
brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play. And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got
up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that - We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded
Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a
single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from 5,000
throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in
Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were
on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt. Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.
And now the
leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped- "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the benches,
black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore. "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of
Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew; But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!"
cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from
Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate. And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this
favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.
"Phin"
|
Casey
at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©
|
CPW
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