I Love This Job


#1

I arrive at the park and settle in,
my work that day will just begin.
I straddle a bench with a white box,
as I lift the sides up and remove the top.
A dozen balls for me to rub,
a dozen balls with hands and mud.
I inspect the spheres with the red laces ban,
white hide all signed by the Commissioner’s hand.
Box after box the mud is rubbed so tight,
with a twisting of the wrists, from left to right.
A knock on the door, it’s a ball boy with a grin,
as he looks at the baseballs and wants to come in.
“Here you go son”, I say to the lad with a grin,
as he stacks the boxes against his chest,
then presses down with his chin.
I remove my street clothes and prepare to suit up,
on goes my chest plate, shin guards and other stuff,
and that trusty little dandy, that snug fitting cup.
My uniform for the day, rather formal and sharp,
with polished plate shoes and a blazer,
I’m a real work of art.
A meeting of minds before this game begins,
for ground rules and stuff, then let it sink in.
I wonder sometimes why we go through this act,
it’s the same ole park that we keep coming back.
Over and over we hash this and that,
but then ground rules are ground rules,
and they must be exact.
Everyone stands as singer comes out,
a cute little boy standing proud and so stout.
He signs …”Oh say can you see…” ,
with his mom in the stands so happy with glee.
“Ok, boys,” I say to one and all,
as I point to the pitcher “Let’s get to it…… PLAY BALL!”.
The batter digs in and the catcher does his little hop,
As the pitcher kicks and delivers a beauty,
that’s so straight and so hot!
“SSSTTTRRRRIIIKEE!” is my call, on this very first pitch,
as I raise my right hand and point with my first.
The batter steps back and starts shaking his head,
he’s not pleased with the call, now the pitcher’s ahead.
Boo’s from the crowd and words of hate,
but I ignore the taunts, for my works at the plate.
Now I want the batter to get back in the box,
stop dilly dallying batter for your acting is for not.
So he steps back into the box,
as he catches my glare and my deliberate nod,
as I mutter to myself … “ Man, I really love this job!”