by Dan Provost
Gibson would back you
off the plate on a bet.
Pedro had no illusions—
He just hated your guts
if you had a different color uniform.
Nolan Ryan didn’t care if
his 98 MPH fastball hit
a hip, arm, or leg.
Charge the mound for respect?
Next inning?
More chin music…
A nuanced, non-written
rule of the
National Pastime.
A former collegiate offensive lineman and football coach, Dan Provost’s poetry has been published in many print and online magazines. He lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife, Laura, and dog, Bella.