the original influencer

it was 1954. her name was,–– well,

it doesn’t matter if I tell you now.

what I can tell you is, that although intrigued

she didn’t know much about baseball.

one morning she showed-up inside the park

after lingering on the sidewalk behind the backstop

carrying an old, weather-beaten 5-fingered job.

I asked: "where'd you get that glove?"

she could catch,–– well, half the time.

what she did was, she'd lay into the catch

as if trying to reach the ball in mid flight.

I said: “let the ball come to you.”

she couldn't throw very well, saddled

with a schoolgirl's typical right-handed cork-arm,

and she couldn’t hit for shit. missed by a mile.

try as she may. and try she did.

she worked on her mechanics, opened her stance

and choked-up a good five fingers from the knob.

two years my younger, Saint Michael School,

and I remember Gina Cipollini with warm affection;

by the way she committed herself to the catch and throw;

to the organic ways the game is played, to come to her rightful

standing in the universal language of baseball which is to call:

"play ball"!