My Father Takes Me to Ebbets Field, Brooklyn, New York

My Father Takes Me to Ebbets Field, Brooklyn, New York

By Robert Cooperman

I remember my dad and me walking up the tunnel
to our seats, the base paths groomed like Belmont
before the famous race, the outfield a meadow
where deer could graze at their safe leisure.
 
We sat behind third base, close enough
for Dad to snag a foul ball for me to treasure,
though one never sailed close enough.
 
He bought me a hot dog from a vendor shouting,
“Get yer red hots!  Get yer red hots!”
And nothing ever tasted that good.
 
Then he pointed out our guys: Campy, Jackie,
Don Newcomb, the Duke of Flatbush, Pee Wee,
heroes able to storm Normandy all by themselves.
 
The first pitch thudded into the catcher’s mitt:
a strike, then the thwack of bat on ball,
the grunt of Pee Wee drilling the ball to first,
the umpire shouting, “Yer out!”
the greatest symphony ever composed.
 
What a day it was; just don’t ask me who won:
enough that I was with my dad on a spring
afternoon clear as the sky above Paradise,
made even more heavenly because he should’ve
been at work, and I was playing hooky.

Robert Cooperman’s latest collection is The Ghosts and Bones of Troy (Kelsay Books).  Also forthcoming from Kelsay Books is Reefer Madness.  Forthcoming from Finishing Line Press is the chapbook, All Our Fare-Thee-Wells.

The Twin Bill is a nonprofit organization with 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status. You can support The Twin Bill by donating here.