People decide to watch the game
near the center of Main Street
in the small park across
from Dimitri’s Candy Shop.
Mr. Dimitri and some of the others
have rolled out his big TV,
one extension cord after the other
all the way across the street
where families lie on blankets
and sit in camping chairs.
Kids play baseball on the grass.
Jordan is there
with Martin and his older brother
and all the boys.
I avoid them.
I bring Buddy to distract me,
his tail wagging against my leg,
everything a new smell,
something to investigate.
Smell of hot dogs
and grilling buns,
grass-stained jeans
and leather baseball mitts,
then woodsmoke from
a fireplace as the sun goes down,
and the dull glow
of the TV, the sound
turned so high
that the speakers hum.
I haven’t told my dad
about the talent show,
the thought of it
hovering like a giant bee
buzzing in my mind.
I’ll tell him today
before the game is over.
But by the fourth inning,
the A’s have scored five runs,
and Giants fans get quiet.
Inning by inning
the outs come quick,
and by the seventh, most people
have already gone home.