The Umpire Strikes Back

When I first arrived in Portland, I used to shop at Trader Joe’s regularly. In front of that Trader Joe’s there was a homeless man selling the magazine “Streets Roots”. He was always very nice to me and we would have chats regularly. Then I moved to another part of town and couldn't go to that same Trader Joe’s anymore. Then one day I opened the local newspaper and saw his photo in the Obituary section. I discovered his life and his name : Roger Gates. I saw that man twice a week for a year and did not even know his name. It kind of changed my way of viewing homelessness. Everyone has a life story and sometimes some people are not as lucky as others…

Outside standing at the plate for an opening, he had to wait.
He had a face with no name, but in the hood had his share of fame.

He lived off of our crumbs, sold us poems and puns.
Sometimes he was struck out, but often hit home runs.
To pay his daily rent, he could only be a gent.
It's not always easy to survive selling newspapers and smiles.

He once told me, "If you want to be a pitcher, man,
stay away from the pitcher, man.
You ain't going to touch base if you're living in space."
I always looked into his eyes to try
and see what kind of demons he had inside.
All the ones trying to hide
behind a "God bless you and your loved ones."

Over time he got stuck between second and third (base)
and never made it up to the the series, It's absurd.
But he said his anger had gone and he said "This is were I belong."

His name was Roger Gates.