THE YANKEE CLIPPER

The Babe, Dad’s escape; submerges his Depression
fears of a foreclosed home and bankrupted business
Dad claims every Ruth homerun prevents at least
ten desperate men from jumping out of windows
Says if you link the roars from all 714 blasts
they would rumble across the continent from
New York to San Francisco and then echo back
shaking the earth like a category five earthquake
I experience the Babe through Dad’s recollections
My personal Yankee hero is Jolting Joe DiMaggio
I cheer as his wide-footed statuesque stance, rapid
wrists, sweeping swing ends in multiple base trots
As his graceful, gliding gait dominates center field
transforms a challenging catch into a baseball ballet
At the opposite end of Joe’s power, grace stands
the Scooter, Phil Rizzuto, the wizard at shortstop
master of double plays, bunts, singles, stolen bases
and the broadcast booth expression “Holy cow.”
Enemies: Ted Williams, Boston’s Splendid Splinter
pummels, pulverizes, and punishes Yankee pitchers
Cleveland’s Bobby Fellow, 107.6 MPH fast ball
flashes by Yankee sluggers like a lightning bolt
After War Dad buys season tickets for Sunday double
headers, night games. Sunny seats behind third base
Besides exciting games, recollect taking a piss during
the 7 th inning stretch. Wait in one of the multiple lines
Finally stand at the urinal, pray for the pump to prime
Others shout, “C’mon kid, shake it, store it, step back.”
Game over, stuck in lot, crammed bumper-to-bumper
Wait for other drivers to arrive, move out of our way
Trip to Chicago, kids adorned in Cub caps, t-shirts, logos
aghast, how can they be fans of the League’s bottom rung
Yankee fan ‘til the Yankee Clipper marries
Marilyn Monroe, morphs into Mister Coffee