There's Nothing Like BASEBALL
There's Nothing Like BASEBALL There's Nothing Like BASEBALL Even before I could hold a bat or a glove, I loved baseball. I would sit in the sunshine and soft grass with my best friend, Jamal. Sometimes his cousin Nikki sat with us, too. I always knew that I'd play baseball. Baseball was coming when the ice dripped drops from the roof. Baseball was coming when the tulips in the park poked through the ground. Then, baseball was here. My brother Greg oiled his glove. He threw balls to his fr
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There's Nothing Like BASEBALL
There's Nothing Like BASEBALL
Even before I could hold a bat or a glove, I loved baseball.I would sit in the sunshine and soft grass with my best friend, Jamal.Sometimes his cousin Nikki sat with us, too.I always knew that I'd play baseball.
Baseball was coming when the ice dripped drops from the roof.
Baseball was coming when the tulips in the park poked through the ground.
Then, baseball was here. My brother Greg oiled his glove.He threw balls to his friends in the park. He let me wear his cap.He even pitched to Mom when it rained.
Those times still happen, but now I don't just watch.In the morning I wake up thinking about the baseball field.I can almost smell the freshly cut grass. I eat breakfast smiling.I think about the sound the bats make rattling together in the bat bag.
Sometimes I skip down the sidewalk.I swing imaginary bats and wait for the light to change.I can almost hear the shouting in the bleachers.
Jamal and I sit in the grass at the team meetings.It's just like when we were little, dreaming about baseball.
Now we are playing on the same team!
We leave the field throwing baseballs up in the air.We count how many times in a row we can catch them.
We both laugh when we drop the balls.They roll down the sidewalk into the market, and we chase after them.
I stand in my uniform and look in the hall mirror.I smile as I think of my brother in his baseball uniform.I look at the picture of Mom in her uniform. She was eight, like I am now.
