A Triple

He hit it toward the warning track.

The ball didn’t clear the fence, or pop off the wall.

If so the fielder could catch the ball as it ricocheted.

And the runner would stop at second; he’d have to.

The baseball didn’t nick off third base, for the base would slow it down.

And it didn’t bounce and rattle in the left field corner.

If so, the left fielder could hustle to the spot at contact.

And he could fire the ball back to the infield.

No one lost the ball in the stadium lights, or forgot to flip his sunglasses down.

It’s just that the ball landed somewhere in the grass and spun to the warning track.

It fell just exactly between two outfielders.

And he could run, the batter could.

And so he did.

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