Catchers and pitchers start the game, showing up
(Which is half the battle, they say, though the battle
Doesn’t really start till the stats are written in indelible ink)
And they joke around and go through drills and as important
As reawakening their skills, which have been hibernating
For three or four too-brief months, they begin or renew relationships,
Build trust and confidence in partnerships that have the common goal,
Every year — doing their share to lift the ordinary to the extraordinary,
Travel through the mundane through the marathon that is the season
Right past the first finish line and onto the one that counts
To any player of that special pedigree. Soon after, they have made their
Temporary home, the position players hearing the call and showing up to
The threshold to The Show, eagerly anticipating the same thing every year,
A place where they belong on the highest levels of their world — and
Then begins the march that will see falling by the wayside special invitees and
Minor not yet Major Leaguers who are blessed to find out what it feels like
To have had the chance to leave behind the sunshine and the desert
And find a home where they have longed to be since childhood.
Spring has arrived and with it Life is once again renewed, the buds will
Blossom and birds will fly and bask and leaves will find their verdant nature
And fans will increase their following and dedication day by day
Until at last the first pitch of the season will be thrown
And crowds will cheer and this year’s history will have its start,
The march of uniforms and comrades proceeding toward the treasured title
And spring training, each day more a fading memory, will have done its job
And it will fade away, vaporized by the overwhelming wish
To “bring it home!”