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“I thought you said that they would come. “Ray said it with a sigh. Outside the ballpark Chaos reigned as another city died. At Camden Yards a game was played; no fans were let inside. Terry sadly eyed the scene and fought the urge to cry. For baseball represents the best that America could be, until hatred triumphed teamwork, forging chains of misery. The inner harbor is in flames and they’ll not soon subside The bitter angels of our nature ruled as another city died. In time the final out was made and the players left the field. The home team lost, no save was made And no one’s wounds were healed.
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
At Camden Yards
“I thought you said that they would come. “Ray said it with a sigh. Outside the ballpark Chaos reigned as another city died. At Camden Yards a game was played; no fans were let inside. Terry sadly eyed the scene and fought the urge to cry. For baseball represents the best that America could be, until hatred triumphed teamwork, forging chains of misery. The inner harbor is in flames and they’ll not soon subside The bitter angels of our nature ruled as another city died. In time the final out was made and the players left the field. The home team lost, no save was made And no one’s wounds were healed.
( The ghosts of Ray Kinsella and Terrence Mann are the only two spectators as a game is played at an otherwise deserted Camden Yards)
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
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