In baseball, the decision to remove the Pitcher from the game is both strategic and compassionate. It’s a delicate balance between nurturing growth and ensuring the team’s success.
In twilight’s glow, the mound stands firm and tall
A pitcher’s heart, a rhythm in each throw, But
shadows lengthen, doubts begin to grow
As innings stretch, the game’s relentless call.The leather whispers secrets to his hand
Each seam a memory etched in sun and sweat
Yet weariness creeps in, a silent threat
And batters’ eyes, like hawks, begin to scan.The coach, a sage, observes the pitcher’s plight
His fingers tap the brim, a knowing nod
For victory demands more than just might
Sometimes retreat is courage, not a fraud.So, with a heavy heart, he walks the mound
And whispers, “Son, your battle’s done, sit down.”— WOLRAD
(A sonnet from the Wolrad collection #353)
