Wisconsin Timber Rattlers vs. Beloit Snappers, August 5, 2006

David Schaafsma

Seventh Beloit home run disappears
Into a stand of pines, two Sand
Hill Cranes split the moon

I Once Was Mark The Bird Fidrych's Substitute Mailman

David Schaafsma

I know Northboro pretty well
You go door to door every day
You get to know a town well, maybe too well
But for years I was a substitute carrier
On Keigo’s route, the name
Mark Fidrych, The Bird
On one of four hundred mailboxes

‘74 pumping gas at the Sunoco
Algonquin diploma in hand
Spring training ‘76―a Tiger
If they want me to be a bat boy, I’ll do it
Coleman gets the flu, Bird gets his shot
Retires the first fourteen Indians, two hitter

That summer Ford pardons Nixon
Bird starts the All Star game
The summer of disco, Mark borrowing
Tommy Veryzer’s i.d. to dance The Fried Egg

You remember what he was like:
When I’m out there the mound belongs to me
Talk to the ball, point where it has to go
Throw back balls that have hits in them
Manicure the mound on hands and knees
Strut around the mound after every out, run on
And off the field every inning

Manager Ralph Houk said, I’ve never seen anything like it
Not even Walter Johnson started this fast

This is how it fell apart, and it always does
But not usually this sudden
Goofing around in center field, spring training ’77
Blows his knee out, cartilage torn
In July, his arm, it just feels dead,
Torn rotator and it’s over

Nineteen wins one season, eight wins the next four years
And just like that he’s done, he’s toast
Summer ‘74 pumping gas and in ‘82
Back pumping gas, glass slipper
No longer fits

A contractor in Northboro today
53, just like me
I like to drive truck, he said when he played
So that’s what he does, commercial trucker
Ten wheeler, hauling gravel and asphalt

Some people say I look like him
Same height, same age, same curly mop of hair in those days
Road trip that summer to see him at Tiger Stadium
Couple kids ask me for his autograph
My buddies have a good laugh as I sign their gloves

I left the P.O. and Northboro in ‘97
Keigo retired and I had the chance to take his route
I would have become Mark Fidrych’s mailman!
But to take any job for ten years
Makes it your career
I had bigger plans for my life

I ran into him just once:
Crazy blizzard winter of ‘95
Three feet of snow, I see a guy digging out mail boxes
As I come with the mail the guy says
I’ll have this dug out in a couple minutes, sir
And I see it was the Bird
Sir, he calls me, a guy who once pitched
The All Star Game!
No problem, I appreciate it, I say, and I did
Standing there, with an armful
Of Rolling Stones and electric bills