The skies were doing all kinds of weird things last Sunday at Yankee Stadium. There was some naked giant guy floating in the sky. Didn’t he get cold in the tush up there? You don’t know what to expect when you look up there these days. You don’t know whether to laugh, get scared, or run and hide. You don’t know what to expect next. Maybe the sky isn’t a sky, but just some sort of a weird mass. Maybe the guy was lost or something. Maybe he was some sort of a giant naked alien. Maybe he spoke English. Maybe he wasn’t even a he. Maybe he was just an it.
Casey Monahan, the right fielder, just called up from triple A, was a replacement for the regular right fielder, who got sick and went home. As he was standing out there, he heard a big “whoosh caboodle!”  Then he saw some sort of a human thing falling from the sky and landed inside his body. “Wow! That was a first. That never happened before. Actually it feels kind of nice. It kind of tickles. My whole body feels stronger.”
After the final out was made, it was time for the Yankees to come to bat. The score was tied twelve to twelve in the bottom of the ninth. They ran out of pinch hitters, so it was Casey’s turn to come to bat. He was a right handed batter, but instead, turned around to bat left handed. The manager yelled at him and said, “You stupid idiot. You don’t even know you’re a right handed batter.” Casey blurted out, “I can’t help it. Something turned me around to the other side. Something told me that number sixty one is on its way. I don’t know what the hell he or it was talking about.”
The first pitch came at him right in his wheelhouse. “Kabam,” it sailed over the fight field fence. As he was rounding the bases, he kept repeating, “Number 61, number 61. Ha, ha, I gotcha. Eat your heart out, Roger Maris. Ha, ha, ha, ha. You thought you hit more home runs than I did. Ha, ha, ha.”
Then right after he touched home plate, he sailed back into the sky and became that naked guy thing again. Could that have been the ghost of Babe Ruth? Despite all the weird things that went on that day, at least the Yankees won the game, thanks to Babe the Ghost. Casey couldn’t remember what the hell was going on, but that was O. K. He took all the credit for what happened.

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Nelson D Reyes
over 2 years

The “winged ghosts” of the yankee stadium are always watching and pitch in when the need arises.

One word for it: faith

Poem reminds me of one of mine “winged October ghost” about my ancestors who visited me.

Like. Thanks Robert.

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Nelson D Reyes

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