Behind the Dugout
There's something barbarous about the cry that rises from the stands. So primal, So ancient. It calls to mind gladiators or chariot races. But here, Everyone's a Caesar, A Nero, And they show their approval accordingly, Be it a swift clap of the hands or else with rhythmic chants, As old as athletics themselves. A broader democratic vista I've never seen. Here, The father dances with his so...