And now, a poem.

Lawn chairs neatly line

Right field.

Caps pulled low,

Chins tucked into top of fleece zippers

As chilled April breeze blows at their backs.

Sun sinks behind the neighboring houses;

Blanket-wrapped legs;

Hushed chatter, no raucous calls.

Stoic,

Waiting to see what the season will hold:

Pitching problems? Ball handling?

Waiting and watching.

Little League Opening Day.