the infinite vs. the unknowable

The Reveries of a Retired Shortstop

Photo by superloop on Unsplash

The rain wasn’t helping things. The dugout steps were slippery enough where you could’ve slid on your spikes and blew out an ankle, or gone stitches-over-seams splatting onto the concrete. Maybe your glove gets so it’s a bit waterlogged too, and so that could’ve been what the catcher’s saying out there, you know, when the ball maybe slips through and skitters away to…