A Poetic Game

By Gabe Ribas
February 13, 2012
www.RDbaseball.org

I like to tell people that when I was a kid I spent my time bouncing between baseball fields, college campuses, and art museums.  I don’t tell people this because I want to come across as well cultured, educated, artsy, or bright, but rather to illustrate that I was connected to my parents.   My dad works in an art museum back in Maine, and my mom was a professor at the University of Colorado.  Staring at a Picasso, or burying my nose in a book seems as natural to me as talking about how to sequence pitches or pointing out the weaknesses in hitters swings.  As a youngster I was taught to love Robert Frost and T.S. Eliot as much as Roberto Clemente and Bob Gibson.