I sometimes fool myself
into believing that watching
a game on TV is better than
sitting in some far-off bleacher seat.
But seriously, folks,
nothing compares to attending
a game in person at your
favorite minor league park.
It’s all there – the air, the beer,
the hot dogs, (Nathan’s, of course),
the whole ambiance of watching
young players beginning their
hoped-for climb to the majors.
You hearken back to your
old days as a kid when all you wanted
was to get a glimpse of your heroes.
It was, and still is,all there –
the green grass, the sun, the wind,
and the conviction that your cheering
will make the difference between
victory and defeat.
You sit taking in everything on this
warm spring day, enjoying then
as well as now, the colorful
slow-moving baseball parade
that passes by year after year.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME