Just a boy but overjoyed
where his heroes are employed
high in Fenway atmosphere;
Will that ball fly too near?
Here on birthday’s great surprise,
dreams go deep behind his eyes.
but then, they’re not so hidden,
culled as dreams when they’re bidden.
Just a boy but overjoyed,
never a minute is he annoyed;
now he’s 16 counting next
pitcher, shortstop, he connects,
7 years on youth football teams
5 td passes his last two games,
real dreams in that other sport,
coach advising him at court,
on where to play, what to do,
where his eye must find a cue,
where a score makes a mark;
Oh, dream for once at Fenway Park.
The field is green, stands are gray
circling round where heroes play,
seats are filled to stratosphere,
nowhere else like what is here;
nowhere does the standard fly
so gallantly against the sky,
where this boy, his dreams afloat,
being captain of this boat,
Fenway Park, the ship of state,
where bolder dreams regulate,
where visions of the derring-do
tell this boy what he must do.
What the future him might bring
Fenway feature marked as lasting,
know the grass, the margin chalk,
no great error, no sudden balk,
no early motion on his count,
vast tackling horde to surmount.
May he find his choice of ball
and push it there against the wall,
or find a ball and glove supreme
to find Fenway’s likely dream,
or arm and eye for spot location
as pigskin shakes Fenway nation.
But he’ll recall Papi’s dream
and a noble Red Sox team,
and see Papi’s latest ball,
grand souvenir atop the wall.
Goodbyes are harshest at the end,
dread separation from a friend,
but both of them will due recall
the antics of their chosen ball.
Fenway Park, we might presume,
has its heroes and a ton of room,
but nothing beats a birthday boy
becoming just the real McCoy.
10/14/08 with Red Sox and Papi vs Tampa Bay)
Photo by Jamie Sheehan