Seriously,
who lives in Kansas City,
stuck somewhere in the middle of the U.S.?
It does not have the panache of let’s say,
Boston, San Francisco or New York.
It is not as pretty as Savannah,
nor as famous as Dallas.
Airplanes fly over it with nary a glance,
and its only claim to fame lies with
the corporate office of Hallmark Cards.
Seriously, have you ever met anyone from KC?
Nevertheless,
I now call myself a new loyal fan,
an unabashed admirer of small ball.
I will bleed Kansas City blue for a series win.
I will roar as the fans do in Kauffman Stadium
in the hope the underdog team emerges victoriously.
This is my way of standing up for little guys,
even if they play in some obscure place
where seriously, nobody lives.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME