Night Ball - Poem by Brian Aji
You lead off.
Grab a bat.
It's cold out
But somehow you're comfortable.
The lit up field is overwhelming.
You step out of the box
And take a deep breath.
You let it all soak in.
The crowd is a silent roar
In which you can't hear,
But you can only feel.
Not an 'I got hit on my hand! ' feel,
But the one only a nightballer can know.
You step back in
And dig out your hole with your back foot,
A nightballer's instinct.
You see a gap in right-center,
So appealing, So.......perfect.
All these thoughts and emotions go through your head in the few seconds before the first pitch has been thrown.
Here it comes.
Take a pitch- I don't think so,
Belt high, straight down the pipe.
You inside out it to the forementioned right-center gap.
It splits the outfielders, bounces its way to the wall.
You don't hesitate......once the ball is hit you're almost half-way to first.
You round first, next destination- second base.
Your inside foot hits second as the center fielder tracks the ball down.
You round second, eyes set on third.
The ball gets to the cut-off man, you're so close to a triple.
No hesitation deciding to go to third, or to try to regain second- You're going to third.
You slide in head-first, mouth full of dirt.
Your hands rap around the bag, just before the third baseman tags you.
A cloud of dust appears, and out of the dust, you see an umpire.
His arms and mouth in chorus yell, 'Safe! '
And the great thing about baseball is-
That was just pitch number one.
Comments about Night Ball by Brian Aji
Edgar Allan Poe
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.