From the bullpen I saw her,
sitting over on the side.
so pretty and stylish, so pretty and shy.
She wore a white scarf that draped on her back,
white gloves and a purse were clutched on her lap.
I saw her before at yesterday’s game,
now I’m intrigued to ask her, her name.
Every once and while she’ll glance over my way,
and smile just a bit and then start to wave.
At first I look down at the ground and the clay,
not having the courage to go over her way.
Then finally I decide to give a shot,
I walk over near her but the words come out not.
I stutter and cough, clearing my mind,
to say something cleaver, so smart and in time.
As I rest my arms on the edge of the fence,
I wink at her smile, but she looks all perplexed!
She gazes right through me like I’m not even there,
like I’m made of glass, thinner than air.
Then I hear that voice so familiar to me,
A voice right behind me so crisp as can be.
“Excuse me son”, he said with his voice,
like I had a decision to make, like I had any choice.
“Are you having a good time my dear” he said with a smile,
as he reached out and held her hand for a while.
For a bullpen coach he was gentle as could be,
a side of him that was not meant for me.
His rugged complexion and tanned weathered hands,
just covered the heart of this tough minded man.
Then he snapped his attention to me,
with a stern look of warning of this company of three.
“You got work to do son, so get over there,”
as he pointed to a mound of dirt and a top that was square.
As I walked over to the mound and picked up a ball,
and felt really bad for getting nothing at all.
Not a name, not a number, not even a drink,
Well I’ll be darn …. She just gave me a wink!