Walt Whitman T-Shirt
Number 11, Wally Whitman, who began his career as a pitcher for the Cosmic All-Stars, has given up his starting job in center field with the American Canons to his pal Ralph Emerson, though he still plays in the outfield from or pinch-hits time to time.
In a strange moment, the first day Emerson came to the ballpark, Whitman took him aside and shook his hand, telling him "I Greet You at the Beginning of a Great Career."
Though strong and fast and agile, Whitman did sometimes become too distracted by the many leaves of grass in the outfield, occasionally letting fly balls falls simply drop around him. Other times, he seemed to marvel distantly as hits would sail over his head, more taken with the beauty of the ball in flight than with the urgency of the play. But Whitman is a very fine hitter, and runs very well in the cut-off denim shorts he wears as part of his uniform.
One of the very first players recruited to the Novel-T league, Whitman was enthusiastic about the project from the start. "Baseball will take our [literary] people out-of-doors, fill them with oxygen, give them a larger physical stoicism. Tend to relieve us from being a nervous, dyspeptic set [without enough fun t-shirts]. Repair these losses, and be a blessing to us."
O CAPTAIN! my Captain Ahab! our fearful season's done;
The team has weatherd every series, the penant we sought is won;
The trophy's near, the fans I hear, the scoreboard us exulting,
While follow eyes the final strike, the bleachers are rejoicing:
But O heart! heart! heart!
I think my eyes do fail,
Seems he's pitching to a whale.
O Captain Ahab! my Captain Ahab! rise up and hear the cheers;
Rise up for you the crowd goes mad for you they chug their beers;
For you they clap and chant your name for you bleachers are a-crowding;
For you they call, the waving mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear pitcher!
With an arm just like a wish
It is some dream that on the mound,
You're throwing to a fish.
My Captain Ahab does not answer, he thinks only of the hitter;
My pitcher does not hear my voice, he sends forth his final splitter;
The season's ended safe and sound, the final road-trip done;
The last game, then on a plane, come in with penant won;
Exult, O fans, and cry out, PA system!
But I, surprised and sick,
Watch my Captain dragged from the field,
Attached to Moby-Dick.