Ongoing Failure

By jessicaj

Baseball is a game of failure
I hear people say this daily
Last Friday
I was talking to a guy
About the road to the Final Four
He wants more ESPN
More college hoops
More NHL, NFL, and MLS
At first I’m nodding along
Then I started envisioning
An invisible painting
Hanging before me
A blend of 90% fescue
With freshly raked dirt
Demarcating the infield
Suddenly my mouth waters
I can taste popcorn salt
Smell yeasty beer
Hear drunks arguing
While another batter
Gets punched out
Meanwhile I’m thinking
This isn’t productive
I’m just sitting there
Growing older
Having spent my money
On a long drive and
Expensive parking
But for a few hours
I’ve been transported
Transformed, I’ve escaped
My burdens at work and home
Have accumulated
The ballpark is grimy
Even the new ones
Are gray slabs of concrete
Baseball is a business
Chewing up players
Sucking them dry
A capitalist enterprise
Time is so precious
Why would I waste it
Contemplating the futility
Of a rainy day at the ballpark
When I could be
Getting ahead in life?
But I have a secret:
I know why
The caged batter
Swings

 


Published in Boston Red Sox, Fans, Food, Free Verse, History, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments

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