Jordan

Jordan can steal bases

better than any other kid in our school.

My father used to leave work early

to take us to the park,

teach us how to steal bases,

catch a fly ball without flinching,

how to hit grounders.

You can try different stances,

but the neutral stance is my favorite.

He looked out across the field.

No one can guess where you might hit.

But you can try different ones

until you find what’s comfortable.

I don’t love playing baseball,

but with Jordan it was always fun.

He’s so fast, if he can get on base,

he can steal the next one.

 

 

It’s all in the hips

that’s where the power is.

Jordan learned it right away,

his stable front foot,

the slight lift, the swing;

it’s like the baseball

just gets huge in his eyes.

 

 

One day, when I struck out

three times in a row,

found myself crying

in the dugout,

Jordan was there,

telling me:

Don’t quit. Try again.

Like a real friend should.

The best part was always after.

We went to Farrel’s for triple scoops

and talked about Rickey Henderson

stealing bases like no one else.

 

 

Spring afternoons,

baseball and ice cream,

the sun cutting through the fog

was enough for my father

to leave work early.

 

 

I think in some ways

it was harder for my dad

when Jordan’s parents

decided we should stop

spending time together

because they thought my

mom wasn’t safe anymore.

 

 

Our dads yelled at each other,

and we didn’t really know

what to do, so we just

stopped talking.