By Dan Zamudio

On the top shelf

inside an old
shoe box
cracked rubber bands
cling to
photographs
of ageless players
captured
on forgotten
baseball cards.

A piece of Wrigley

Wind tattered
“L” flag

worn from
days of continuous
use above
centerfield’s
creaking scoreboard

calmly
settles
on a diehards
basement wall

(originally published in Baseball Ink Vol. 2, No. 2 – September 2001)

By Dan Zamudio

Shiloh Park – Zion, Illinois

Old library,
recently converted
into a Senior Center,
looms deep across
center field grass.

Little league
batters
swing at chest
high pitches
desperate
to crank a ball
onto the roof

just once.

Old-timers
watch from behind
glass windows
and boast
among each other,
embellishing
baseball stories

of their youth.

Welcome to the Majors, Kid!

Fast ball
sizzles across
the strike zone

chest high

before smoldering
inside their catcher’s
steady mitt.

Laughter erupts
from inside the visitor dugout
as I step inches from
home plate,
inhale a calming breath,
then carefully
prepare my batting stance
for another
big league pitch.

Opening Day in Chicago

Baseball
season begins
on a cold afternoon
as blankets warm cheering fans and

the first pitch soars across home plate
stinging our catchers hand
frozen inside
his mitt.

Dan Zamudio is a Chicago writer and lifelong Cub fan who recently forced his tired girlfriend to take three rolls of action photos while he played catch with strangers on Wrigley Field after a long tour.

Dan’s baseball poems can also be seen in the 2001 issue of SABR’s “The National Pastime”.

(originally published in Baseball Ink Vol. 1, No. 4 – March 2001)

By Dan Zamudio

Bat boy

Steady
breeze rustles his
oversized uniform
as he kneels outside our home team
dugout

and waits
patiently for
the moment when both hands
will hold smooth pine still trembling from
a hit.

Confucius says

Only two things can last forever:

an old baseball mitt
with softened leather
and a double-header
delayed by
stormy weather.

Baseball Riddle

A ll professional
L eagues forbid its
U se.
M ade to be
I ndestructible.
N ever cracks.
U nfilled inside the
M iddle.

B aseball’s
A ttempt to save
T rees.

Dan Zamudio is a Chicago writer and lifelong Cub fan who recently forced his tired girlfriend to take three
rolls of action photos while he played catch with strangers on Wrigley Field after a long tour. Dan’s baseball poems can also be seen in the 2001 issue of SABR’s “The National Pastime”.

(originally published in Baseball Ink Vol. 1, No. 3 – December 2000)