A young boy’s attachment to his team
happens at age 8-12, and he is stamped for life,
as indelible a mark as any branding iron.
There is another reason for unwavering loyalty –
When I was young and had dreams
of playing first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers,
they turned my dream into a nightmare
by taking the first train for the coast.
How could I follow my team across the continent?
Was I expected to cross the river now and
exchange Dodger blue for Yankee pinstripe?
I shifted my teenage allegiance
to the bumbling Mets from Queens,
and with few exceptions have suffered
with them across the course of my adulthood.
I have taught my sons to be loyal,
hoping that my team will not steal away
in the middle of the night, thus
crushing the dreams of some other 8-year-old.