By Stuart Shea
There was a big game going on in Detroit
To decide the Eastern division champ
But my brother and I were at Comiskey
Where despite the October sunshine
The atmosphere was damp.
I was 24 but even then had an overarching sense
The last game of a mediocre season?
Perfect fit for me.
The Sox beat the Athletics 5-2.
No big deal; neither team
Was going anywhere but home.
One reason we went is that we knew it would be Reggie Jackson’s last game ever.
So we alternately cheered and booed him.
He got two hits.
When the game ended
Ozzie Guillen threw his glove high in the air
And I hoped that it would never come down.
Published in Ballparks, Chicago White Sox, Fans, Free Verse, History, Oakland Athletics, Players, Stu Shea, Youth | Link to this poem | No Comments