Emily Dickinson: "[I started Early--Took my Dog]"

Though a search of Emily Dickinson's correspondence for the word "baseball" proves fruitless, she was rumored to be a big fan of the Brooklyn Eckfords, and was known by friends to sneak off from Amherst whenever a double header was imminent. Gilbert and Gubar have gone so far to assert that "Em was just mad about baseball," though their evidence amounts to some felt lint found in her attic that might have been a remnant of a pennant. However, there is some evidence in Dickinson's poems that, while walking through her father's orchard, her mind may have been more on box scores than flower boxes.

"[I started Early]," a poem dated to 1863, when read from this perspective, seems to yield an appreciation of a stolen base, or at least a hit-and-run play. When combined with her other paeans to home runs ("Success in circuit lies"), the pickoff play ("ecstasies of stealth"), and even the daily grind of the utility infielder ("The Bench, where we had toiled--"), this poem reveals a writer with more than a passing interest in the game. The first line, in fact, plays on the longstanding baseball slang usage of "double play" as a pitcher's best friend (along with his dog). So the baserunner has to "[start] early" from first in order to keep his team out of a double play--in effect to take "the dog" out of play.

The "mermaids" in this case seem to be a derogatory term for the other team--obviously in this case the Brooklyn Atlantics (hence, in the previous line, "visited the Sea")--moving to the top dugout step to watch the action. The archrivals are apparently in a tight game, and the baserunner/speaker's lead off of first base will result in a crucial play, one way or another. The "frigates" reference comprises one of Dickinson's elaborate puns--obviously, since it refers to players on the upper floor, or the field itself, the nautical term can lead us only to presume these are the players 'on deck,' coming up next in the batting order, offering encouragement (their "hempen hands" may indicate they hit a lot of 'frozen ropes,' baseball slang for line drives--since good hitters are due up next, it's important for the game not to end on this at bat).

The fact that the baserunner/speaker seems "aground" to them probably means he has been 'stranded' on first by the next batter after a leadoff walk or single, and a double play would end the inning, and perhaps the game. (It may in fact be a reference to other times during the game this player has been left on base--"no Man moved me," no one has advanced the runner.) He appears to them as "a Mouse" because of the tension in the 'cat and mouse' game between pitcher and baserunner, a tension which builds through the rest of the third and fourth stanzas, though it's unclear whether "the Tide/Went past my simple Shoe" is an indication that a pickoff attempt has gone awry or if it's simply the Gaze of the pitcher sizing up his opponent before the speaker "goes" in line 16, "I started--too--," attempting a steal or at least a hit-and-run to keep the team out of a double play. *

The next stanza raises a host of issues for historians of baseball, as all the talk of Dandelions shows that field conditions were often quite cavalier.

However the play unfolds, the runner ends up at second after having registered the feeling of physically or at least psychologically being chased ("I felt His Silver Heel/Opon my Ancle") before arriving at "the Solid Town" of second base and forcing his competition to "withdr[a]w" in defeat. Some scholars also argue that the poem is actually about breaking up a double play, sliding in spikes up and disorienting the shortstop ("No One He seemed to know--").

In any event, however, Dickinson's love for and intimate knowledge of baseball should no longer be in doubt.

*the "Apron" and the "Boddice" referenced in this stanza are no doubt archaic slang terms for baseball equipment