I had the talent,
I had the skills,
what I didn't have
was the genes ofthe coach,
and that
plus an occasional strikeout,
was enough to dismissme
as a loser.

A strikeout was the same
as a countdown
todisaster.
Strike One!
3
Strike Two!
         2
        Strike Three, You're Out!
         1, Blastoff.
"Whatwere you thinking!"
echoed throughout the field.
"You just lostthat game,"
closely followed.
"What a loser,"
wasmumbled,
not intended for my ears.

I was nothing to him,
the"coach" who cared about
his son,
winning,
and making a"loser"
out of everyone else.