Good Game

my heels dig into the dirt elbow up, eyes ahead watch her hands count the wind-up first, second, third, then home first, second, third, then home is all i have to go breathe play through the pain run even as her fastball hits you in the gut and you trip along the bases and bruise your ribs dodging a tag out

wince and you're benched fail and you're done freeze and the crowd of eyes watching will all know what you've been told before

useless pathetic weak no good ride-along