Scott Boras: A Poem

Scott Boras had a father who was a farmer. He’d wake up in the dark. The son of that farmer would wake up when it was light and watch his mother move about the kitchen.

Baseball was easy for a time and then it got hard.

Scott Boras has a reoccurring dream. In it, the stove has sprung a leak and he’s been tasked to fix it. He can’t find the tool box and no one else is in the house. He looks in the barn

but the barn is completely empty. Baren. Unused. When he returns to his house Steve Avery is sitting on the porch. Steve Avery asks if he can borrow a cup of sugar.

Scott Boras thinks that Ruban Amaro thinks that the two of them are friends. Scott Boras does not think this is true.

Scott Boras grips his golf clubs like a baseball bat. The interlock and overlap never felt right. They felt like the club would go flying out of his hands. When he swings at the ball

on the ground he closes his eyes at the moment of impact and holds his follow-through until the ball lands like he’s been taught.

At night, in the dark, Scott Boras thinks of Elk Grove and he breathes steady.

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