Las beisbolistas

A version of this poem will be published in "Mexican American Baseball in the Pomona Valley," the 5th book of a 6 book series co-authored by Richard Santillan. Jump on this raza! 

Sometimes they played in fields

smaller than the men’s

at earlier times too, right before the men hit the lots.

But these mujeres were no warm up acts!

Lit up muchos corazones with their game,

their talent, their passion ended up catching some

pitcher or catcher’s eye from the men’s league.  Like a line drive

right down the middle of their corazón their love united many of

them in happily ever after diamond field of love…hotter than a double header.

Las beisbolistas, Tomboys, Aztecas trading their aprons for a chest protector

not torteando tortillas on Sunday, they are punching the pocket of their gloves

ready for the heat of that grounder.

Mujeres beisbolistas made me cry.

Took me like a child down that lane.

My little arm hooked to my mother’s elbow

walking safely down the street.

Little arm that could throw a ball fast

directly at a bully’s right calf.

“Don’t tell me girls can’t play ball!

Next one will be a homerun. I call right field.”

Mujeres beisbolistas? Yeah, women can play.

They do so for the fun, the win, the pride and the high.

For the bonds, the appreciation and even the aches.  They play

for the dream the “What if I never had to give this up, have fun and play 
for a living, never grow up, play the game I love”.  
Mujeres could fill up any field with their dreams.  

Béisbol a game of tradition.  Las beisbolistas broke racist, 
classist, gendered barriers one crack of the bat at a time.