As he stands in the fresh mowed grass
Shifting his weight from foot to foot
A thought occurs to him.
I’m I the worst athlete on the field?
The stereotype says so
But he knows better.
He knows he’s the team’s best player
He can hit and run and field
As good as anyone; better
Yet here he is in right field,
Always the last position handed out.
He imagines himself the future Babe Ruth
Roberto Clemente, Hank Aaron
They were right fielders.
They were the best.
The bat pings and the ball darts upward
Another chance to prove his greatness,
That he’s reliable. The best on the field
The ball descends
Reflecting the light of the midday sun
Growing larger and larger until…
Until it hits him on the shoulder and rolls to the fence
After he runs to retrieve the ball
And bounces it to the infield
The baserunner scores the go-ahead run
Next time, he thinks.
Next time I’ll show them I’m the best.