They weren’t flashy.
Just two worn gloves, crumpled into a back pocket between innings —
sweaty, stained, faithful.
No matter how many swings you took,
no matter how many innings you played,
they were always there — ready.
Stoicism
Loyalty is quiet.
It doesn’t brag.
It waits, it serves, it endures.
Be like the gloves in your own back pocket —
ready to serve, even …