Posted on

Triple Play

by R. Gerry Fabian

It is soaking humid night.
Even the ball park lights are perspiring.
Top of the ninth.
Bases loaded.
No outs.
The batter smashes a line drive to third.
Caught-
step on third,
fire the ball to first.
Game over.

R. Gerry Fabian is the author of three novels and four books of poetry. His latest book of poems, Ball On The Mound, is a collection of original baseball poems, available at Amazon.

Posted on

Gramps Has the Yips

by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza

I taught my T-Ball-playing granddaughter
To throw balls straight like streaming water.

First, the four-seam grip.
She asked, “Got another tip?”

Now, get your feet in place.
She laughed, “Kinda like a race?”

Third, point your glove at me.
She pointed, “Sting like a bee?

Then she threw a perfect strike.
I was so proud of the little tyke.

I tossed it back way, way over her head.
She shoulda been teaching me instead.

She threw the ball like Sandy Koufax.
I screwed the ball like Steve “Bleeping” Sax.

Ten wild, wild throws later, with hands on hips,
I confessed to my granddaughter that I had the yips.

 

Posted on

Batter Up

by Bart Edelman

It’s not like I fail to read the pitch.
I’m familiar with the entire arsenal
Employed to make me look foolish
When I step up to the plate.
I know the dip of the curve,
The splitter’s relentless movement,
And the four-seam high heater—
Not to mention the change of pace.

Yet whatever it is I do,
I appear totally out of my league,
Unable to adjust to the rhythm,
Mechanics, and flow of the delivery.
Once my weakness is revealed,
I’m soon confined to the bench.
If it weren’t for my defensive skills,
I’d be booted off the team.

I tell myself it’s a long season;
I’m bound to get a hit one day.
The law of averages keeps me toiling
At the stadium long after dark.
Still, I can’t help but think
I’m pretty much dead weight,
Standing in the batter’s box—
I wish I could simply open.

Bart Edelman, former Little League first baseman for Rudy’s Dairy in Teaneck, N.J., is the author of Crossing the Hackensack (Prometheus Press); Under Damaris’ Dress (Lightning Publications); The Alphabet of Love, The Gentle Man, The Last Mojito, and The Geographer’s Wife (all Ren Hen Press); and Whistling to Trick the Wind  and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023 (both Meadowlark Press). He now lives in Pasadena, California.