When I panic that my team
has lost two in a row, oh my,
my friend, Sam, counsels me.
“It’s a long season,” he says.
Indeed. Baseball plays on,
stretching its arms out
over a 162-game schedule.
What other sports season is
so languorously long?
The clock, the master
of most other pro teams,
is not welcome here,
(though initial attempts
have been made to limit
time on the pitching mound.)
So, I will take a deep breath,
consult the calendar
instead of my watch, and
luxuriate in the warm bath of
a long and effervescent season.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME