I Had A Dream Chris Davis Was In Love

and it explained what happened, the ending, the rebuild.
It was his contract, but also, it wasn’t. Because
they were always destined to leave, almost everyone,
the guys he lost to the deadline trades, no contracts,
unsigned prospects, franchise pieces that walk.

He wins. He loses. He loses again. He loses friends,
teammates, coworkers, brothers, lovers –
he can call them what he wants. Everyone saw him fall
in love on the diamond. And now who does he call when
he runs a cold streak of 54 games without a single hit?

Salvation is one thing and grace is another.
Maybe his batting average is how God evens the score
after he had lost everyone he fell in love with. Or maybe
that's just professional sports. He wins and loses,
takes and gives, breathes and chokes on grace every game.
The ballpark’s as much a cathedral as anything else,
but his teammates, his coworkers are more forgiving.
Maybe his brothers, lovers, they wanted to save him too.

He got “SALVATION” tattooed on his arm, a reminder that
there’s an end to this untidy life, but his savior is not
waiting above him in a cloudless summer sky.
His savior is the dirt in his cleats, the gloves on his hands,
the chalk, the bat, the deck. The swing and the miss.
His savior is the men embracing him in the dugout after,
one game at a time.