by Sid Yiddish
They send me to the showers early
Because I’m not good enough.
Sit me down on the bench and give me a good scolding.
I feel as if my future is folding, but I don’t mind, because I feel as I’ve worked harder at playing the game than anyone who’s ever played in my position.
Still, they tell me it’s not enough.
I still miss fly-balls and occasional grounders, too.
They tell me my throwing arm isn’t what it used to be, when firing from centerfield to tag the runner out at home and it’s not that I’m tired or old or have a reoccurring injury.
It’s just that I’m tired of the abuse that’s heaped on top of me, game after game after game by managers and coaches who read the playbooks all wrong and the owners that only want runs and hits and for the fans to keep on packing the place.
Perhaps this is the last inning for me.
Perhaps it’s time to retire, but it won’t matter.
I’ll still go out a winner.
Published in Free Verse, Players | Link to this poem | No Comments