Third Row Angel

Third Row Angel

Watching my television

The first baseball game I have been home for

Eight innings

Five strikeouts

Seventeen hits

A score of four to two

Yet, I never saw any of it

I watched the home plate shots

Shots made from centerfield

I could see you in the third row

Long blonde hair

Legs all the way up to your ass

You were perfection in a Tampa Bay Rays jersey

My heart broke when you went to get a beer

Your empty seat started at me

My heart stopped

My breathing went shallow until I saw you return

A pair of short pants and a Red Solo Cup

My team lost the day

Beaten to a bloody pulp

But I didn’t care

My only thoughts were simple

Are you a season-ticket holder

Will you once again be my third row angel

I will see tomorrow at seven o’clock

When ESPN is once again on my TV

And the umpire yells “Play Ball!”

Once again, if you are there the game will not matter

Too bad it will be a good game