Short Second Base Poems

I’m riding shotgun in her car
as we drive through the night
neath Neil Armstrong’s moon
radio plays that Animal’s song
but San Francisco's almost as 
far from this humid Oklahoma 
night as Neil Armstrong’s cold
moon yet maybe I’ll get 
past second base tonight....

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How did you grow from a shrimp 
on your first day of Kindergarten,
To now a handsome young man, 
three inches taller than me?
Your Winnie the Pooh phone replaced 
by a baseball bat.
You now standing at second base?
Grandma misses hugging you.
And kissing your sweet, kindergarten face!

5/25/2019
8:45pm PST...

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clutching 
my pillow
from first
to second base
racing into third
fourth then fifth

freely speeding
yet not meeting
expected
expectations
stripping gears
shifting down

pistons beating
radiantly steaming
switching off
high beams
now to
broken

down
blinkers
blinking
dimming
giving into
a dead battery...

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In baseball, this is something we rarely see.
An infielder without any help puts out all three.
He catches the line drive, and steps on second base;
then he tags out the runner at first in a chase.
It's happened only fifteen times in major league history.
I saw it occur in a Phillies game in 1990.
The player who did it was named Mickey Morandini.
...

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They shall remain nameless
For time has stolen much
Worn away the glow of life
Frayed and faded a past

I know them briefly
In the passing of a bus
A song passing on the wind
The smell of …”whatever that is”

I know the face
He played second base
We laughed a lot
He will remain nameless

I savor the memories
Linger with the thoughts
For I knew them well
Yet, now, they remain nameless



...

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Clean uniforms all lined up
One set on each side.
Two flags- state and country-
Salute from across the field.
Swing, swing, swing again
And a thick clink,
Everything moves at once. 
The ball- outfield, second base,
First base, third,
Shortstop and then the mound.
Is he out?
You bet, tagged at first.
Good boy.
Batter up, tap tap tap on the ground,
Swing around to ready.
Swing, swing, swing again
And again and again.
That's three, my boy, you're out.
Change sides....

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Your major league career started in Cincinnati.
Some years later, it ended in Kansas City.
You played every position, but primarily second base.
Many seasons involved a pennant chase.
Not many knew your real name was Octavio.
The nickname “Cookie” is the one we would know.
You came a long way from your origins in Cuba.
Your had your best seasons while playing for Philadelphia.
As a player and later a coach, you could do it all.
In your time, you were an asset to baseball.
...

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