get your tickets ready
by martin
sitting there at the Grill
seething
just after Boone’s
HR off Wakefield had
landed in the Stadium
seats
JJ came over
put a pint of
Bass down in front
of me and said
“don’t worry.
next
year.
you
watch.”
and damn if he
wasn’t
right
I still don’t know
if he really knew what
he did for me
on those dark
sunken directionless
nights,
Double J
with his
smile and his
conversation
and his
grace
the only therapist
I could afford
at a time I
desperately needed
one
and then
last week there
was the news
that Wake was gone,
too,
at 57
far too young
that old line
but true
and it was one of those
reminders that
life can be a marvel
but nothing
is given
time does what
it wants
things evolve
degrade
emerge
grow
decay
and what we
think we know,
we don’t
not
really
so much of it’s
guesswork
and
flailing around
in the dark
but on the
good days the
light pokes
through
and
when those pockets of
light find you
you owe it
to yourself to recognize
how precious and
rare
they are
and to treat
them well
it’s been a
long time since I
posted up at the
Citta bar
and babbled at Double J
about nothing
over a glass of
Italian lager
hell, I hardly even
go to bars anymore
I think it’s because
I know it’s
never going to be
that good
again
