Why does he walk up and down a little dirt pile?
He dangles his arm when he stands still.
And he stares at a man in a mask 60 feet away.
He might glare at another masked man, too.
Perhaps he flings a curve ball into the batter’s eyes, before the ball drops safely into the catcher’s mitt.
He holds a ball once baptized in mud: it only needs to be bathed once.
He feels for stitches with fingers swollen with blisters.
And hides his pitch behind his back.
It matters not where the ball ends up, be it glove or bleachers.
After every batter, he takes his trip.
Up and down a little dirt pile.
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