The son I never had.
The shortstop I never was.
My grandson, the flashy fielder
My grandson, my Fenway companion
I buy beers, he studies the field
The crowd enjoys the game, I bitch about Lackey
Only he understands.
He is a senior now, his last season
The coach benched him for going to Europe
An opportunity gained, a season lost
This year, another try
It’s his call