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My Boy
His mess of hair plays with the wind;
Eyes beaming now, he shines alive,
A thrill to watch amongst his friends,
The guys who throw, and hit a drive,
And catch the fun, with glove and dirt,
And run ‘round bases on the field,
to home, from home, they run, they wheel,
To play and smile, too tough to hurt,
With wet grass stuck upon their knees,
And clumps of mud between their cleats,
With space to slide, and steal, with ease,
Yet swing so hard they will not cheat.
When at the plate, that little pill,
Sails past. To get on base at last,
Three strikes to hit a ball so fast,
Takes time, and work, and careful skill.
Or turn and walk, or worse, strike out,
And bleed the tears that mark his plight.
But wait, he’s hit the ball with clout!
To watch him move has set life right!
I see his soul stretched ear to ear,
and with that crack, break open joy,
And watch my son make life so clear,
This living dream is my good boy.
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Gregory Ross is an emerging poet and a pilot who lives in Stafford, Virginia.
“I see his soul stretched ear to ear,
and with that crack, break open joy,”
Only a parent could see such a thing and, soul to soul, share that moment of triumph with their child.
You captured it beautifully, Gregory.
I’ve been watching all the Little League World Series (both boys and girls divisions) and, having been a parent of a Bobby Soxer whose team fell one game short of winning the Hawaii state championship, I watch each batter, every fielder, every pitch, and every play through the eyes of a parent, like you and like myself.
“To catch the fun, with glove and dirt . . .”
That captures the whole point of the game at that level.
You and your son are lucky to be able to catch that fun, together.
Thanks James! I’m sorry to hear you guys lost, but it sounds like you achieved something more than a championship – and at least you got to the big game! I hope you guys are staying safe out in Hawaii! I’ve been watching the wildfires on TV.
Greg, I left Hawaii 13 years ago and now live on a different kind of beach in southwest Washington state. My three girls are all adults now and I have four grandchildren. Time passes quickly, but your poem is timeless. I actually missed that championship Bobby Sox game because it was on a Sunday morning and I was leading worship. The ballpark happened to be across the street from the church and I could hear the cheers and groans as the game was being played. Two of the girls on my daughter’s team received scholarships to play at the University of Hawaii, so not all was lost!
Gregory,
While our son didn’t exactly play baseball at a young age, he would often come home covered in dirt. I had forgotten how my wife would put our son in the laundry room sink and bathe him right there. Your poem brought back those wonderful memories.
Thank you!
Paddy
Thanks Paddy! Yea, there’s something right about boys getting dirty – through any type of play.
This is a wonderful tribute to your son and childhood! You are blessed to have such a son and take delight in the important things in life.
Thanks Roy! My goal was to express exactly that!
I loved it all, such a happy poem and yet a story! The anxious father and the son not wanting to disappoint.
Thank you Rohini, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
A home run of a son, Gregory! The order of events in the poem is not quite clear, just as it might appear to the mind of a young player learning all the terms while he works on baseball skills. I was soccer team mother for my son’s first season, and because he did not run as fast as most other players, I was always delighted when he got close enough to give the ball a kick. And what a thrill when he and the opposing goalie kicked the ball back and forth several times at close range,
finally resulting in his goal for our side!
Thank you for the complement, Margaret, I look forward to reading more of your poems!
All I ever wanted to be was a baseball player, and this dream began as a little leaguer. Thanks for taking me back.
I’m glad it did Michael. Watching him play brings me back too!
The excitement expressed in the poem made ME excited! Favorite line:
“I see his soul stretched ear to ear”!
I must admit that as a cricket-loving Brit, baseball didn’t pull me in… but everything else did! That pride we have in our children… that in-the-moment with them feel, that joy at their joy and exuberance… all captured in this wondrous poem has me cheering! Great stuff!
“…a cricket-loving Brit,” – challenge accepted! My next poem will be designed to convert you into a baseball fan! Oh, and thank you for the compliment!
Gregory, the way you end this poem with all the bad things that COULD happen… and then that glorious hit… is baseball and, often, life… the antithesis of “Casey at the Bat,” one of my all time favorites. Lots of poetic touches that have me smiling and wondering…