Writing > Game report as a series of haikus

June 6, 2012: Game report as a series of haikus

Diablos Rojos del México 13 Guerreros de Oaxaca 12
7:00pm Tuesday June 5, 2012
Time: 3:55
Attendance: 2,518

First of the series
Started two minutes early
Lead off guy struck out

Diablos pitcher
Is Roberto Ramirez
Nickname: machine gun

A solo home run
And he's mocked: "pistolita!"
By visiting fans

Not a real good start.
Three more hits, bases loaded
One more, a run scores.

Terrible defense
Seven hits, only one out.
Double play? Nope, error*.

Two outs, then a K.
Thank fuck for that, inning over.
Diablos to bat.

A lead-off single
Another; Heras to third.
Error. Heras scores.

Oaxaca home run
Top of the third, two more runs
In top of the fourth

Tacos! Esquites!
Donas! Botanas! Pizza!
Cueritos! Dulces!

Palomas! Nieves!
Cervezas, refrescos! y
Papas! Cigarros!

A two-run home run
Oaxaca lead 10 to 4.
Sigh, more beer please.

The next part of this
Does not adhere to haiku
Specifications

I noticed that the beer vendor that I've become friendly with only has three fingers on his left hand. One of them isn't missing, it's not been cut off, looks like he was born with three fingers. Each of them is bigger and look stronger than his four-fingered hand. He's from Cuba. People at the ballpark shout "Cubano!" when they want to attract his attention. Both of his top canine teeth are missing. At the end of the game, he took his work shirt off straight away, and as I paid him for the evening's beers, he was stood there in a wife-beater vest. He has a tattoo of Ché Guevara on his chest.

I take up three seats.
Note book, beer on my left side,
My bag on my right.

Two runs, bottom fifth.
And four more bottom sixth.
A tied game, 10-10.

An organised group
Often here, hate Diablos.
Sadly, make more noise:

"No mames, umpire!"
And to all the Diablos:
"Chinga tu madre!"

Full count, make some noise!
("Ruido" en español)
Knight Rider theme tune.

"Radio Ga Ga"
"Greased Lightnin'," and "Kiss" by Prince
And something by Muse.

Foul balls chased by kids
And men who should know better.
Lacking dignity.

They don't play it here,
Take Me Out to the Ball Game.
Sing it to myself.

Eighth inning, run scores.
Bottom of the eighth: two runs!
Diablos winning!

Winston Abreu,
The closer, comes in. Home run.
A goddamn blown save.

An out, a single,
A million-pitch at-bat,
And the batter walks.

Fly out to center,
Line out to the first baseman.
The game tied, 12-12.

Bottom of the ninth
Leo Heras swings the bat:
A walk-off home run!

A sloppy slugfest.
Thirty five hits, two errors
Los Diablos win!

The subway car smelled.
Smelled bad, like a hundred farts
But, Leo! Home run!

* not technically an error, but any reasonable human would call the way the short stop mishandled the ball an error.