A baseball story from a North Menomonie Oriole, 1966 and beyond.

“The Diamond Speaks in Runes,” my story in The Twin Bill a literary baseball publication from New York. Thank you Scott Bolohan for suggestions and to Russell Thorburn who helped me turn a final phrase to its 9th inning close. I’ve learned the best stories are community affairs and it takes good writers and editors to hit the ball. For baseball stories that take you out to the park – any park, like my big Michigan back yard many years ago, check out The Twin Bill at https://thetwinbill.com for poetry, essay, fiction on all things baseball and an interview with Darryl Strawberry. See

If my friends could get out of their summer houses, we met at the diamond to sharpen the angles of our wild fastballs. The guts of our dirty brown ball unraveled like a tongue, wagging at the glove skipping by, hurling past the catcher in angry air like an exclamation point.

The neighborhood boys and I played in Little League as the North Menomonie Orioles. We met on green fields and became friends stitched together by bonds of wood and leather.

We tried—and failed—to throw a curveball, cursing the cowhide and dreaming of the day we’d be big and twist a ball that skipped away from trouble. To be young and play ball allowed me to dream big.

Summer passed quickly in Wisconsin, and every game was a life event I couldn’t miss. I lived to swing a bat, and if a bus filled with ballplayers drove by my house, I raced to Wakanda Park to compete against other kids for foul balls during games.