Baseball players are afraid of nothin’.
They are big, powerful men
who can grip a baseball whole
with their outsized hands.
Only one small creature
can terrify championship teams,
one small varmint who
can attack an arm or a leg.
It is the Injury Bug,
the little devil who can emerge
from the infield dirt, and without
rhyme or reason, devastate
a team’s post-season aspirations.
He might tighten an arm,
swell a knee, bruise a rib.
The Injury Bug laughs at
coaches and strength conditioners,
indeed anyone trying to safeguard
the players and owners’ investment.
Put forth your best team, folks,
but note, the Injury Bug is lurking,
lurking, ready to strike at any moment.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME