The Dialogues: Studies in Ballyard Discourse

First baseman: “Nice poke!”
Base runner: “What?”
FB: “I said, ‘Nice poke!’”
BR: “Thanks! I didn’t hear you at first! I guess the crowd is pretty loud!”
FB: “Yeah, they’re definitely proud! And why not? They love their Rays!”
BR: “Who got a raise?”
FB: “What?”
BR, after a pause: “Looks like your skipper is removing the pitcher!”
FB, after a hard squint: “Yeah, I guess it does!”
BR, after a longer pause: “So, how’s the family?”
FB: “The what?”
BR: “I say, the family!”
FB: “Pretty good, but I prefer the Corolla!”

This has been the recent Old-Timers’ Game at Yankee Stadium.

First baseman: “Nice poke.”
Base runner: “Thanks.”
FB: “No. I mean, ‘Nice poke.’”
BR: “Oh. How do you know about that?”
FB: “Dude. Baseball’s a small fraternity.”
BR: “Right. Well, do me a favor and keep it quiet, will ya?”
FB: “What’s in it for me?”
BR: “Next time you hit a ball in the 5.5 hole, I’ll ‘dive’ for it. Know what I mean? Olé!”
FB: “That’s not enough.”
BR: “What else do you want?”
FB: “Her number.”

This has been the recent Two-Timers’ Game at Yankee Stadium.

First baseman: “Nice poke.”
Base runner: “Thanks, man. That’s nice of you to say. And let me tell you: I really enjoyed it, even though I didn’t quite catch it on the sweet spot. But at the end of the day, what’s the difference? I mean, a hit’s a hit, right? And we really just need to enjoy it while we can. We really need to soak it all in.”
FB, looking around: “Yeah, man. You’re right. Soak it all in.”
BR: “Just look at that blue sky. Just smell that green grass. Listen to the crowd. Feel the earth beneath your feet. Smell those peanuts and Cracker Jack.”
FB, wiping a tear: “It’s all been worth it, man. I regret nothing.”
BR, nodding: “See you on the other side, my brother.”

This has been the recent Short-Timers’ Game at Yankee Stadium.

First baseman: “Nice poke.”
Base runner: “I pooped.”

This has been the second game of what turned out to be a day-night doubleheader during the recent Old-Timers’ Day at Yankee Stadium, the players having forgotten, after the 4 p.m. dinner, that they had already played.