Billy met Bertha. They moved up north, to Marathon, Michigan or maybe it’s in Wisconsin? Last we heard there was a kid on the way.
Scott earned a scholarship to some school, hoping to become an engineer one day. Build bridges and knock other ones down.
Jerry didn’t wear an ax on his back, but he went west, followed the seasons. Fashioned himself into a migrant worker. He drank a lot of wine too.
Mark pitched one year in Idaho, on some low-level minor league team and now he sells golf clubs, near Sarasota, Florida. I think he lives there too.
The rest of us stuck around Brew City and slipped into jobs and bars and drank a lot of beer. We were blind to the moon making its way across the sky. We even forgot which celestial bodies moved or revolved, rotated and which ones didn’t? We musta been drunk. Someone changed the subject.
Who has an axis?
You got an ax to grind?
We woud sing in unison,
Remembering Jerry I guess, the dirt under his nails, destined to become a farmer.
Someone would then say, “Grunge.“
And someone else, “Nirvana.“
“The Bowie cover, The Man who Sold the World.“
And when the jukebox played, talk returned to celestial bodies and planets revolving.
“Or is it the sun that doesn’t move?“
The bartender had beads for eyes, piercing, black and beautiful. It was like there was no iris in either of his eyes, no color, only black and beautiful and forever. I forget his name, but we called him Carpo, short for carpet, because he always slid the bottle across the rail with a wink as if to say, find the answer in bottom of the bottle and we never did, find an answer, that is, and I still don’t know what carpo or carpet had to do with him sliding the bottle, but carpo sounded like a fish and rhymed with Harpo and I never forgot it or his eyes.
We were never a band, not in the musical instrument sense. We just hung around together. Went swimming in Limestone quarries and got drunk inside abandoned boat houses along the lake. Those Lake Michigan waves were like the funeral commercials we watched on television, water lapping over pebbles and a narrator whispering that nothing lasts forever.
I`ve been thinking about Lake Michigan lately and “nothing lasts forever.“ I guess Aramis Ramirez traded to Pittsburgh last July started it all. This came as no surprise, but Jhonathan Barrios was the first of many prospects to wash ashore in blue and gold, the future. Carlos Gomez and Mike Fiers were then dealt. Winter came and K-Rod was soon gone, followed by Adam Lind, Jean Segura, Khris Davis in exchange for prospects prospects prospects and so with Jacob Nottingham – our catcher of the future arriving and Lucroy having recently expressed a desire to play on a contender, but yesterday he said,
“One of the first things that happened here is I met Jacob Nottingham……..He asked for help with some catching stuff…..I’ve realized that this is what the game is all about. That’s what Jason Kendall once did for me. So regardless of what I said about not wanting to be on a rebuilding team — I’m going to make the best out of it. We have a really good group of guys, a good coaching staff, and the fans are awesome and they’re going to support us, no matter what. I just want to be positive and I want to have fun.”
Well hot damn! And with a pitching staff led by Jimmy Nelson, Taylor Jungmann, Wily Peralta….well, I don’t rely on ERA`s or the more metrically advanced stats. I don’t have to. I don’t work in a front office. I’m just a fan and I’ve seen all three of them pitch and well, like most MLB pitchers, they can be dominant. Question of consistency.
Sounds like Lucroy will be behind the plate.
And up the middle, there will be SS Orlando Arcia in June or maybe earlier and there hasn’t been this much Brewers hype over a SS and his range since Alcides Escobar.
Former Pirate Keon Braxton will hopefully be awarded CF. He can fly and handle a glove.
And I like the defense and pitching and maybe I’m overly optimistic, but I`m glad it’s today and not yesterday.