Catching a game in the sun
or under the mezzanine
during a rain delay.
Slamming down hotdogs and
overpriced concession beers,
screaming your ass off
like a wild creature
as you cheer on your team
and pray for victory.
It’s the bottom of the 3rd, with no one out,
and Mason is up to bat.
He’s always a threat to go deep.
Jennings, an All-Star shortstop,
is on second with a 3 foot lead.
The pitcher looks back at Jennings,
sees daylight, and spins around
to fire the ball towards second base.
Well, the middle infielders
must have had their signals crossed
because neither managed to catch
the pitcher’s pickoff attempt.
Jennings was almost to Third
before the ball had even hit the ground.
He rounded third like a baby rabbit
running from a mink.
As he darted home he stumbled,
grabbed the back of his right leg and
crashed onto the white chalk of the baseline.
He screamed in torturous horror
while his career ending pain intensified
with every thump of his steroid riddled heart.
It was the complete ripping
of his Achilles tendon that caused him
never to play professionally again.
He did have a brief comeback attempt with
the Ketchum Rifles in an independent league.
At Lincoln High School he was considered
the 7th best senior in the nation and was picked
19th overall in the major league draft that year.
None of it matters to me though because
I was rooting for the other team that day.