we’re getting close to baseball season again
I think about the old bold days of going to games
old comiskey park on the south side of Chicago
the baddest part of town
says my friend the mayor (not really the mayor)
35th and shields via the local lanes via rockford way
green wooden seats sit where you want cuz there’s barely anybody there
bringing a big league appetite
tacos sold by a mexican family down third base line
with some mucho caliente sauce that shouldn’t be sold to the public
mouth numbing delayed effect
drinking a beer or two an inning maybe three after the hot sauce
feeling good by the seventh or eighth
what’s the score? I have no idea and I don’t care
white sox 20 games out already
just my luck Chuck
game goes into extra innings 10 or 11
could afford it in those days
stumbling out to the car
shake down sorry buddy no cash left
my friend’s driving and he’s drunker than I am
killed a few brain cells that night
and other summer nights like it
don’t know how we got home--don’t remember
don’t know HOW we got home
