I Shall Watch Them Play Baseball on Donkeys

Have you seen this, friend?

I like the looks of it. I am going to Borchert Field. I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys.

Part of me — the good part — hopes that the Tripoli Arab Patrol is a patrol made up of Arabs rather than a patrol in search of Arabs to be patrolled. But I’m still going to Borchert Field. I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys.

The Tripoli Arab Patrol is world-famous throughout Shrinedom, so it can’t be all bad. I’m told a band will play. I enjoy a good Sousa march. I’ll hope for a Sousa march, and I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys.

It will all unfold harmlessly, you see. The fun will approach such levels that a circus will come to mind. Or a riot. Would you call a riot “fun”? They promise laughter. I often find myself asking, “What’s so funny?” I ask this of myself sometimes when I’m alone. But I’ll go anyway to Borchert Field. I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys. “Who even has the energy anymore?” is something else I say a lot.

Milwaukee Gas Light Company is a name I can trust. Twenty-five cents sounds reasonable. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself in a grand stand. I’m on a budget like the rest of us. Does this look like scabies to you? No, not that. I hadn’t even noticed that before.

Yes, I suppose I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys.

I remember lying on the roof as a boy and looking up at the stars in mute suspension and talking about what scared me. I don’t believe I ever mentioned donkeys or Shriners. So I shall go to Borchert Park. The more I think about it, though, it seems quite possible that I would’ve mentioned donkeys and Shriners. That will give me something to think about on the bus.

“Should I watch them play baseball on donkeys?” is something I’m starting to ask a lot.

“Nite” sounds more promising than “night,” doesn’t it? “Night” carries with it the threat of menace. Or at the very least the threat of not getting to bed at a decent hour. I have a routine, you see. I suppose, though, that “nite” means the same thing. Stands to reason. They probably just spelled it that way in order to save space.

I don’t think I’m going to go see them play baseball on donkeys.

What do you think happens when you die?




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Handsome Dayn Perry can be found making love to the reader at CBSSports.com's Eye on Baseball. He is available for all your Twitter needs.


11 Responses to “I Shall Watch Them Play Baseball on Donkeys”

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  1. Toasty says:

    Never in my life have I been this proud to be from Milwaukee.

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  2. Kyle says:

    Fuck me this is awesome.

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  3. Dave Barker says:

    This manic style makes we wonder if Mr. Perry partook of a wee bit too much of his own Big League Liniment. Also, how come when Mr. Perry’s images are clicked, we are taken to an alternate-universe version of the post, with no text and a separate comment thread?

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  4. rambodiaz says:

    “I shall watch them play baseball on donkeys.”

    The true travesty would be not having this screened onto a t-shirt or embroidered onto a quilt.

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  5. Expert Analyst says:

    Ha ha ha, that donkey just ran to first base!!! (Doubled-up with laughter, wetting myself)

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  6. Steve the Pirate says:

    Donkey basketball was a recurring event at a local high school while I was growing up.

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  7. Take me with you, Dayn.

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  8. reillocity says:

    I can’t believe that you could buy children for only 15 cents back then.

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  9. When you die? It’s a lot like life, but without all the paperwork.

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