Spitballing in the Writing Center
He was an earnest late teenager
With a big friendly grin, dark-haired,
Chubby-faced, a fuzzy half beard,
Ball cap, jeans, a solid looking kid,
Come for help on a project
For this developmental English class.
It was a narrative with pictures,
The aim of which was to show
Appreciation to someone they admired.
I looked at the big old guy in the photos,
His grandpa, a grizzled mountain farmer
In Spruce Pine who loved his family
Though he’d lost his wife, he went on,
Had been a ballplayer and a coach
A long time ago, picture after picture
I saw a face I should recognize till
I finally asked him Who is your grandpa?
Gaylord Perry, he said, flat and
Matter of factly as a McDonald’s order.
300-win club Gaylord Perry.
Me and Spitter Gaylord Perry.
Named after a friend of his Daddy’s
Who died having his teeth pulled.
Cy Young in both leagues Gaylord Perry.
Campaigned for Jesse Helms Gaylord Perry.
Don’t you think we ought to mention
The baseball a little more, I asked,
He looked at me like I didn’t know nothing,
Shifting in his chair, he said,
That’s just my granddaddy.
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