He lay there in a *****, unkept ball,
Having surrendered to the pavement.
Wisps of stringy brown hair
Covered the lines on his sunken in face,
His yellow smoked eyes, rheumy and blurred,
His vision hazy, like a punch-drunk boxer.

Kathleen Harmon sashayed by
With nary a glace downward.
Once they were equals,
When they sat together
During high school Chemistry.

Time slowed from a Tango to a Waltz,
As a drop of saliva
Kissed the pavement.
Stringing there from his cracked, parted lips.

His tangled brown whiskers,
Patchy on his cheeks,
Had lengthened with the passing days
Since their last meeting with a razor.

Nikes, Prada, and Gucci
Ignore him in passing
All sports, fashion, and business meetings;
On the clock, and self-absorbed.

Dusk marked the sky
With a violet crayon
Worn to a nub,
Then worn to nothing.

A sudden thud startled him awake!
Then blackened hardwood stunned him as it bit into his ribs!
A caustic voice berated his slumber,
A navy blue reminder that even surrender was no escape.

watching as time goes by
on the bleachers
waiting for the game to end

cheers and shouts
my distanced gaze is different from all the rest
meaningless numbers are shown on the board

only cheap thrills
temporarily balancing your thoughts
until it doesn't work

I ran crying the last 2 miles.
When i did sports, i always smiled.
My team never made me sad.
When i lost at sports, i'd just quit the game.

It didn't feel bad.

I can't just quit when i run. I have to go on.
Push my limits.
I do it for fun.
Screaming every step i cry,
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::.

There’s no point in trying to become
the best umpire that ever lived.
There’s always someone who’s gonna’ call your game otherwise
no matter how well you play that day, or any other

There’s the time spent practicing with little tykes,
triple A, Grapefruit Leagues and more practice,
there’s never any respite for those who are right
only someone else to refute your best judgement.

There’s no right/wrong regarding calls, strikes/*****
it’s Olympic swimming, diving, ice skating,
subjective.
There’s no life like it, ‘cept maybe the Army

Betting of all sorts, you know not where or when
you just know it’s going on somewhere with somebody/somewise.
There’s no accounting for mans indiscretion to sport
nor the improprieties of professional sport/entertainment.

There’s no telling if you’re gonna’ call good or bad games
or if your kindness or mean streak will exude on any given day
There’s no telling if you’ll make or break at one call or another.

No telling if your taxi will drive or stop
while you’re in a cab
There’s no telling if it’s your time or not
to face the lost angel of death…or not
   it will happen
   in the taxi on the street
   or the garden you’re tending
   the house league diamond
   or the major league ball park
   it will happen
   but there’s no telling……
   when

Breathe in and out
Get to the ball
Breathe out and in
Try not to fall

Breathe in and out
Sprint down the field
Breathe out and in
The strength you wield

Breathe in and out
You hit them first
Breathe out and in
Your shoulder hurts

Breathe in and out
You dribble fast
Breathe out and in
Get hit at last

Breathe in and out
Air born you go
Breathe out and in
Time becomes slow

Eyesight blurry
You hit your head
Eyesight blurry
Your nose bleeds red

Dark tiny spots
Cloud your vision
Dark tiny spots
Hard collision

It all goes dark
The pain's still there
It all goes dark
Blood in your hair

Open your eyes
You're laid in bed
Open your eyes
Holding your head

Try to get up
Think of your name
Try to get up
Wracking your brain

Start to panic
No memory
Start to panic
Eyes that can't see

Wet tears stream down
Leaving their mark
Wet tears stream down
Blind in the dark

You can not see
No one is there
You can not see
Nobody cares

Sitting alone
No memory
Sitting alone
Eyes that can't see

The yellow ball soars through the air
From whence it came I do not care
And with a great, tremendous whack
I send it soaring, soaring back