A Micky Mantle baseball card, a soap box race car that took weeks to build, a cow hide baseball mitt, with only four fingers- My uncle gave me these things, you said over a cold glass of coke. We loved Micky Mantle. I pictured you sitting on the garbage can in the ally, hoping he would ask you to help him build your car, using that thick glove as a cushion. Micky Mantle was your hero, I knew this after many stories of your first baseball game, visiting Comisky Park, watching Micky bat. You thought that the glove you had was just like his, I tried it on and couldn't understand how he caught so many fly balls with a four finger glove. You know I named that race car after him, 'Crazy Yankee,' I thought it was the fastest one on the block. But it didn't make sense because you weren't even a Yankees fan, and I never knew Micky Mantle to be crazy. David Alfafara @1998
Reason for writing:
One day, I pictured my dad telling me this story, even though he never did.
He did have an uncle though that introduced him to baseball, and built things with him,
so I created a fictional account of him and his uncle when he was growing up.
I've used this poem in my poetry class at Illinois State University, and it didn't recieve much feedback
when it was workshopped. Any comments or criticism sent to my email would be greatly appreciated.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by David Alfafara Birth Sign: Cancer.