Hitting Softballs By the Field House
“yeah man, call out
‘aye laddie’ to claim the
ball.” we laughed, and he
hit a grounder, followed by a
pop fly, followed by another
grounder, all thrown back to
the proximity of the pitcher.
“what’s it gonna be like tomorrow?”
I asked. “In the 70s...I haven't hit
since last spring.” Some clouds
loomed overhead and my hairs stood
on end. He hit a short one and paused,
“What are your dinner plans? I
got a few pizzas in the freezer.”
“Wow, that’ll be great weather for the
frisbee tournament then.” The ball
tuckered out of my glove. Dammnit.
He cranked out another one, and the guy
out left managed to haul it in,
“Aye laddie!” The sun peaked out
a bit, and I saw where the clouds
would end for a time. “Aye laddie!”
That one, I caught.
Reds and oranges over the trees, and
none of us believed in sun sets.
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