Hour Ten

The fans are all gone, the game is over, the silence rings throughout.
Seagulls and crows pick through the overflowing garbage from cans insufficient to their cause.
Peanut shells and popcorn bags, drink cups and wrappers, remnants of a family outing to the ballpark.
Janitors brooms, litter picks doing their jobs. Containment and disposal the goal. A full house is loud. A full house is busy. A full house leaves debris in its wake.

Sticky wads of gum under seats and on floors, handrails and seatbacks. Club sections, luxuries suites and press boxes, littered with beer cans and pop bottles. The odd jacket left behind.

A beat up shoe cast aside. High top Nikes left to whomever finds it. White and black the home team’s colours, making it easy to spot.

The final game of a winning season a play off berth cinched. Yankees over Red Sox, in the eleventh inning, winning 15 to 14.

Playoffs bound, in it for another round.