by Tim Kabel
March 28, 2024
***
Opening Day
The boy entered the great stadium, wearing his new cap and clutching his grandfather's hand
It was his first time there, but since he was missing school, he knew it was for something grand
As they came out of the tunnel, the boy glimpsed the sky of azure blue and the field so fresh and green
He could hardly breathe; it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen
His young head was flooded with a myriad of sights, sounds, and scents
His grandfather smiled and rubbed the lad's head, knowing it was a day well spent
The boy and the old man watched their team take the field and jumped up with a cheer
The lad was so energized that he spilled someone's beer
They watched the game closely; the boy learned, while the grandfather taught
They ate and they laughed but, the boy spent the day deep in thought
The grandfather was bestowing a gift; passing on his love of the game
He knew that one day in the future, the lad would do the same
The pitcher took the field with his teammates, to a roar, long and loud
As he kicked the dirt on the mound, he scanned the crowd
He caught sight of the boy and his grandfather, and he smiled
For a moment, he was in the crowd, once again, a child
Soon, the pitcher went to work, something he did with joy
His mastery and command brought a sense of wonderment to the boy
The grandfather watched with a keen eye, the way the pitcher controlled the game
The old man knew his grandson would never be the same
He had passed on to the boy a love for the game that would last all of his days
He had help from the hurler; the boy's eyes sparkled watching his pitches blaze
The pitcher left the mound, the game well in-hand, to a deafening cheer
Memories rushed in as he saw the old man and the boy, and his eyes welled with tears
The grandfather watched the game with joy but, also a touch of sorrow
Yesterday, he had been the one on the mound but, now it was tomorrow
Once, he had been the hero; the one basking in the glory
Today, he was the witness to someone else's story
On the way home, he would tell the boy of his exploits and feats
After today, the lad would cherish the tales as wonderful treats
The grandfather remembered his own prowess and skill
Yet, he watched with admiration as the pitcher worked from the hill
There was a thread that connected the grandfather, the pitcher and the boy
Something that filled them each in their own way, with wonder and joy
At some point in time, they would all be in each other's place
As the game itself moved at its leisurely and beautiful pace
