October Baseball by Ryan Cassata [Poem]

I live for postseason baseball,
the electric roaring crowds,
and the chance that the World Series could be all ours
…again
like when I was a little kid,
wearing that ring that made my face shine in my darkest hour,
in my ketchup stained Nomar Garciaparra jersey and faded B hat that I outgrew slowly,
as I aged falling in love with the dust, those perfectly painted white lines, the yellow poles,
and the flying stitched leather ball that soared through Fenway on my TV screen,
as peanuts crunched, wooden bats clinked on cork, and umps screamed and spat,
as I, from afar, shouted my dedication and vows,
thinking my devotion was strong enough to reverse Bambino sized curses,
to win…it all…again,
to get to the heavenly champagne party,
with another heavy ring to wondrously marvel at.
my team, showed up, every Spring,
hoping for October…
bringing me to life again.