T his time every year, rich memories stir my soul, perhaps coaxed by the warming breezes of spring. Memories filled with the smell of leather, oiled in Neatsfoot. Maybe its the clatter of wooden bats in a canvass bag, the rattle of metal spikes on concrete, the snug feel of the ballglove, or tuggin’ on the ballcap, with the bill rolled just right.
Perhaps it’s the smoothness of the cowhide sphere, my finger grip on raised seams, that stirs in my warm recall. Or the click and clack of the catcher’s gear, as he crouches, giving me the signs. Maybe it’s my right foot on the rubber, just before my leg coils for delivery. The “hey batter batter” chatter from my infielders, just before the loud pop of the ball in the pocket of the catcher’s mit — me waiting eagerly to hear “steee-rike threeee” ring out from the ump!
Or is it your arm around my shoulder, the pride in your eyes, as I step down, entering the dugout, after retiring the other team. “Nice job pitch”, you say. “Thanks dad, I mean coach” is my reply. Your were my Little League coach, and you helped make me a helluva hurler — which carried my ball career all the way through high school.
It is every year at this time, that I think of all of this, that I think of you dad. How you wanted me to try pro, and how the scout felt I had the arm — but it is the path I didn’t take. I chose music and the arts, and you never made me feel sorry for my choice — one that you supported as genuinely as you did my sports. It is you I think of this time of year, you I still miss so. You dad, are these memories, and I love you deeply, now in this tearful moment — and always. Thank you for coaching me, and for loving me!
vivid white chalk stripes
laid neatly on soft tan dirt
dad’s gift of baseball
*
rob kistner © 2023
Poetry at: dVerse
Such beautiful, poignant memories, Rob…
Thank you, David my father was my hero, I still miss him every day. Even after all these years.
Rob, what wonderful memories you share here! How fortunate you are to have had that kind of support and love.
Thank you Linda, I still miss him every day… 🙂
Nice job Rob! Nice poem! <3
Thank you, Carol Anne, I have many loving memories of my father. 🙂
Wonderfully warm memories of your father and the game…thanks for sharing, Ron!
You are most welcome Lynn… 🙂
The nostalgia is potent. Thanks for giving us the wondetful haibun Rob
Much????love
Thank you Gillena and much love to you my friend. I just got back from the hospital, my wife Kathy had her operation Friday, and she still in there — but hopefully she will come home soon.
Lovely. My son is playing soccer this year .??????
Soccer is my favorite sport. I coached my oldest daughter in soccer and I coached both of my sons in soccer. I also coached my oldest son in football, and that coach, my youngest son in baseball so we’re a sporting family. But I love soccer specially women’s soccer. I follow the NWSL, pro women’s league regularly having lived in Portland Oregon for 28 years, my team is the Portland thorns, last year‘s pro women’s champion.
Reflecting back on days gone by, Rob, can be good. It gives emphasis on getting good ideas to move forward for the coming days!
Hank
The root of who we are grows from our past Hank.
This is such a beautiful and nostalgic Haibun. I can see how this time of the year would evoke those memories! What a heartfelt tribute to your dad.
Thank you Dwight! My dad was a skilled blue-collar pipe worker in the chemicals industry, a true rough tough individual my friend, but with me he would also share his tender loving side — it was in his eyes and in his voice… he was my rock in a tumultuous youth — still miss him. 🙂
What a precious memory! Excellent haibun 🙂
Thank you Paula… 🙂
what a wonderfully written tribute to a much loved dad.
Thank you Rog… 🙂
I love the way your father supported you even if you didn’t follow the path of sports.
It meant a great deal to me Björn, and spoke directly to the type of man he was, and one of the key reasons I loved him.
May I just say: there is no haibun born from memories of dad, the diamond, family that will top yours.
Thank you Helen… 🙂
Vivid details, string emotional appeal in the second half of the poem.
Words from the heart; and, a theme that is universal. The Cat Stevens song has always been one of my favorite.
Thank you Tzvi… 🙂
This is beautiful and poignant, Rob. I love this.
Thank you Dale… 🙂
What a lovely sharing of your memory of your dad.
Thank you Donna… 🙂