David Wright Bücher

11 farb. Fotos, 56 farb. u. 66 schw.-w. Zeichn., 63 farb. Taf., 2 Tab.

A memoir from one of the most admired players in baseball, the captain of the New York Mets, David Wright David Wright played his entire Major League Baseball career for one team, the team he dreamed of playing for as a kid: the New York Mets. A quick fan favorite from Virginia who then earned his stripes in New York, Wright came back time and again from injury and demonstrated the power of hard work, total commitment, and an infinite love of the game. Wright’s stats are one thing. He was a seven-time All-Star, a two-time Gold Glove Award winner, and a two-time Silver Slugger Award winner. He holds many Mets franchise records and was nicknamed "Captain America" after his performance in the 2013 World Baseball Classic. But there is more: The walk-offs. The Barehand. The Subway Series and World Series home runs. And the electricity that swept through Shea Stadium then Citi Field whenever number 5, “the Captain,” was in the game.

In Local Talent, David Wright deepens his poetic engagement with the physical and spiritual terrain of the Midwest. Even when his poems travel far away to Vermont or Italy, Wright's imagination, diction, and poetic eye have been indelibly shaped by the Heartland (its people, communities, fields, roadscapes) through seasons that require "all our talent / to keep our candles and cigarettes lit in the Illinois wind." Formally, the poems range from pantoums and sestinas to elliptical free verse and prose poems. Often sensuous and lyric in nature, Wright's poetry also narrates, converses with other poets, and borrows from musical, artistic, and religious traditions that both vex and soothe. Whether we grieve and mourn our losses, or celebrate fleeting moments of connection to others, this collection offers an honest and imperfect vision of discerning how our varied talents (making art, cultivating community, caring for our bodies, recovering intimacy) root and sustain us in whatever landscape we inhabit if we can "stand, bare-eyed and loving this place" as we struggle to embrace "a nearly open-ended sky."