Baseball Ghazal

Watching the Red Sox at the Blue Jays on a Saturday night,
although I don’t care much for baseball.

That’s not true: I enjoy games, not fandom.
I have never cared much about who wins in baseball.

Just now Hernandez stretched full out, leaping from the warning track
to rob Guerrero of the walk off run; the crowd groans. That’s baseball.

Earlier, the crowd cheered bonehead base running as the Sox gave away
an easy win. I saw it as hysterical, not criminal. That’s baseball.

Any good play’s a triumph, any bad one’s a tragedy.
Any underdog rising, any big dog falling: that’s why I watch baseball.

I care for the story of the game, not for the score. I loathe the blowout,
adore the nailbiter and the unexpected win: that’s my baseball.

I watch this one to the end, first time in a while, then go to bed; like not wanting 
a book to end, then forgetting it once the cover’s closed. For me, that’s baseball.

Another game tomorrow, another winner, another loser.
Another story to watch and then forget. That’s baseball. 


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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