My friend Teri took this picture a couple of years ago while I was playing catch with her husband, Aaron. It’s one of my favorite pictures of my favorite glove.
I wrote a poem about this glove and it felt fitting to share while waiting on today’s game of catch.
Wilson
All strings original
twenty-eight years strong
chewed-on leather in between pitches
no parts replaced
aging better than me.
Name-bearing Sharpie tattoos cover
woven web and thumb
and Velcro-ed wrist.
Intoxicating scents linger still.
Holder of double play memories
sliding, diving outfield catches
one outstanding day on the mound
and saved me from dental surgery
twice.
Faithful travel companion
just in case.
Always ready for a new adventure
and one more game of catch.
Still chasing baseball dreams.
