Stance

When batters step up to the plate,
They pause a moment – hesitate;
They  space their legs; adjust their grip;
Then crouch as if about to sit.

The bat comes back; the shoulders flex;
The muscles tense; slight turn of neck;
Eyes down the line to pitcher’s mound;
Sign flashed behind without a sound.

The pitcher preps his grip on ball;
Lines up his body, standing tall;
Steps back then makes initial pitch,
Controlling ball – preventing hit.

The batter sees the windup, pitch,
Assesses how to handle it;
I had a friend who said one night,
“I see the ball throughout its flight.

He said, “My brothers also can,
Not very common for a man
To see a ball which comes that fast;
We can – the pitch from first to last.

The ball comes in, spins up or down;
Sometimes it’s high above the ground,
Or wide, or tight inside, quite close,
Designed to break the batters pose.

The hit itself, to left or right
Or centerfield, with all his might,
Gives batter time to run a base
Or two, or home, if that’s the case.

But if there’s no connect this time,
The batter steps to plate to find
His stance once more, coiled like a spring,
So he can make the baseball sing.

That’s where I’m at – here at the plate –
I take my stance; I hesitate;
I glance about the inner field
And think about this inning’s yield.

To me, I love a baseball game;
The strategy – so much the same,
Yet different – two teams back and forth;
So much like life in South and North.

One’s stance can vary – that’s okay;
What matters, “Is the ball in play?
Then race to first with all ones might,
To beat incoming baseball’s flight.”

So stance, my issue for today,
The where and when I want to play;
How best prepare – initial pitch,
Left hand or right, and should I switch?

This moment as I reach the plate,
At which I seem to hesitate,
Is full of action – sets things up
For what’s to come – it’s not just fluff.

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