Playing By The Rules
It wasn’t a team, just a bunch of kids
and the number of players
always changed depending on
who didn’t finish their homework.
There weren’t any lights at the park
and we couldn’t play in the dark
so we always went home
when the streetlights came on.
We’d argue and fight
about a pitch or a strike,
but we’d laugh and we’d cheer
for the whole world to hear.
There were only three rules
that came out of the blue
I think it was our moms
who made them.
And even though
the moms were not there,
we stuck by the rules
and obeyed them.
You gotta wear shoes
You can’t say bad words
and Never spit on the field
One time, Mike’s cousin Pete
came up from the city
to stay at his house
for two weeks.
We showed him around,
the woods and the town,
the Veteran’s Hall,
then we went to play ball.
Pete says, "This isn’t a team,
just a bunch of kids." We all
look at Mike, who looks away,
and give the kid a mitt anyway.
There are just three rules,
You gotta wear shoes
You can’t say bad words
and Never spit on the field.
"Says who?" says he.
"Those are the rules Pete,
that’s the way it’s gotta be."
And then he spits on the ground.
Can you believe that guy! We
make a huddle to talk about it,
Pete waits on the sidelines
kickin’ dirt.
He looks pretty unhappy.
We tell him, "The rules are the rules,
but because you’re new on the job,
we’re gonna give you a second chance."
So he agrees, and we make him say the rules out loud.
You gotta wear shoes
You can’t say bad words
and Never spit on the field.
When I grow up, I finish college
and get a job with the Health Dept.
in the city. One day I meet up with
Mike’s cousin Pete at the 7-11.
"How’s it going, Pete?
Long time no see!"
"I’m a fire fighter now,
at the Station down the street"
He says, " They’ve got these rules on the Fire House door:
You gotta wear shoes,
You can’t say bad words
and never, ever spit on the Fire House floor!"
By Mary Torregrossa, MY Sister.
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