America's Pasttime Poem by Jim Yerman

On our way into the stadium before the game had even begun
I saw them walking together…a father and his son.

They were excited, smiling…laughing as father and son are wont to do
They had on matching hats and shirts…the same color…Toronto blue.

The son was wearing a mitt on his hand…to me it looked brand new
Hoping, I'm sure, to catch a foul ball and make a dream come true.

I saw them at the concession stand where the father gave his son a wink
and said, "We'd like two hot dogs, two french fries and two drinks."

On our way down to our seats still before the game had even begin
I saw them sitting in front of us…a father and his son.

They were excited, smiling…laughing as father and son are wont to do
Only this father and son were much older…in their matching Toronto blue.

I watched as the son put down his old mitt, stood and ask his father loud and clear
"Dad, I'm going to the concession stand…do you want a hot dog and a beer? "

The father looked up at his son, smiled and nodded his head…
"I'd like that." His voice was barely above a whisper…
"The usual." He said.

On our way out of the stadium…after the visiting team had won
I saw them walking together…these two fathers and two sons.

And it reminded me of what I love about baseball…
where the future meets the present and the present meet the past
where families just by watching a game make memories that last…

where fathers and sons come together…
fathers and daughters too
where even if the home team lost…and no foul ball was caught
dreams can still come true.