Foul ball

By Patrick T. Reardon


Before he was a prophet, Yogi

Moses played baseball and, one

dry Sunday morning, took his

catcher’s mitt out to Agamemnon

Field for newspaper stunt to

boost attendance in sleepy May

Cincinnati and, as baseball

thundered down to him on a

line from advertisement hot-air

balloon, circled, circled, circled

under the growing dot, like just

another high foul, and reached

out for the stitched horsehide. 

Broke his hand.


Patrick T. Reardon


This poem originally appeared Elevation Review in August, 2021.

Written by : Patrick T. Reardon

For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is

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