a kid from Rochester for the summer said

Steve Demeter was the Red Wings MVP.

Looked him up in the Sporting News.

.260ish third baseman with pop, smarts,

and a major league hole in his swing.

Three years later I'm at Parker Field

to see Richmond play Syracuse.

Hear the starting lineup and SURPRISE

Demeter's the Chief third baseman!

That day Neil Armstrong walks on the moon,

Ralph Garr walks on water with three steals and two hits,

the Chiefs walk on the Braves 14-3,

and when I ask for his autograph,

Steve Demeter ignores me and walks away.

Will never forget his 34 diminishing with distance.

Demeter manages my Salem Pirates in '75.

Hitting Winston Salem for a 4 game series,

my yells bounce around the ballpark.

Red Sox fans hate my guts;

Red Sox farmhands wish I was dead.

After umpire kills our first night rally

with a called third strike 3-2 ankle high fastball,

Ed Whitson gets shelled late next game.

Third contest Al Holland is pummeled,

we lose every game by ONE RUN,

and I wish I was dead too.

Again Demeter equals disapointment.

Ten years pass and now rockily married,

Steve's profile in the Baseball Encyclopedia

sledgehammers my thoughts.

He and my wife are from Homer City, Pennsylvania.

It figures.

It's half past' 95, Charleston bound,

a Roanoke wrong turn puts me on 419,

Salem and a ballpark I 've not seen

for 8 years await. Why not? Arriving there,

the GM's watering the field;

Tells me last season's manager was.....

Missed him by one year.