Tuesday, 10 April 2018

Before the move to Miami (#NxtSzn)

I have been here.
In spirit, definitely.
My body, on the 4 train.
Trafficked to 161st.

I have “repped my city”.
I have “put the city on my back”.
I “made my family proud”.
I “put my niggas on”.

I even played the game I mastered, beat, remastered, got indefinitely suspended from, returned to and lost in.

For the crowd.

I may be a free agent soon.
I may owe a lot of money to a lot of people.
I may have sold my soul, in the name of love.

Twice.

But when the plate’s home, I dig my cleats in and take a stance.

Wherever this swing takes me, I’m runnin’.

If I barely make it to first, there were runners on second and third.

Fuck the shortstop, should second be where I meet the mitt.

Stop waving your fucking arms!
I see you.

But...
If when I make it home you call yourself “waiting for me”, expect the bottom to start it.

“Like... excuse me dawg; pardon these Nikes!”

This could be THE season.
My knees are giving out from decades of being a catcher.
The city I was drafted in AND the city I play for have counted me out.

Yet... I’m at bat.

I will not be represented, the way I am and want to be, by my home turf.

Yet... I can win the game.

This is a LONG offseason.
Trade rumors.
Injury reports.
Failed drug tests.
Uniform conflicts.

But when it’s game day...

Get ready.






Yeah. THAT WAY.







My conceit is divine.







~Selah~