The Interpretation of Baseball
By Carole Oles
It took time to study who was missing
from the dream ball club that paraded
through the dark in uniforms and numbers
holding up posters of the lost teammate
as if campaigning for their man.
I had to walk the dream railroad track again
where my son followed me at first, then took
the lead, balanced, leaped forward over the ties,
poof – gone.
And to sit with the inquisitor who wore
my dachshund around his neck like a precious
fur with lacquered eyes.
I had to listen then to memory,
your fastball, your grand slams out of the park.
And go back to the bleachers at Yankee Stadium
where you took me at 7 though I was not the son
whose heart, that sly courser, unseated him.
He was the one you saved your prize for,
the baseball Babe Ruth signed.
At the game you tried to show me what you saw
but I was gabbing about something else:
another hot dog, how many more minutes.
It took time, Father, to see
you swinging, connecting.
The Nationals have swept the Cardinals and are World Series-bound after a fantastic first inning and solid pitching when they needed it the rest of the game! And now you know what I spent my evening watching (on TV -- my father and his friend were there). My loyalty is still first to the Orioles, but it is exciting to have a local team going to a championship (maybe even beating the Yankees).
So there is lots of joy in DC tonight. Most of my day was not as thrilling, unpacking and laundry, though I did have lunch with Kay for her birthday at CPK, after which I walked around Washingtonian Lake, did a couple of Giratina raids with folks I'd never met, and bought a chenille sweater on sale at Target. Here are some of the little blue and African penguins at Adventure Aquarium: