Sports poetry has always been its own distinct genre within the art form, just like cowboy poetry or spoken word performance. Its popularity has risen to a new level now, though, after last week’s national gathering of state poets laureate in Indiana, the theme of which was “Sporting Words.” Invited poets convened to read, write and meet each other to talk it all over. They even got a chance to attend a variety of sporting events together.

This is a natural evolution since, as any serious fan can tell you, the best announcers and sports columnists can lift reportage into eloquence and art through their use of metaphor. Fact is, the great games we play and watch are themselves metaphors for a wide variety of human experience.

Richard O’Connell’s “At the Polo Grounds” is a fine example of the type. He weaves in memories of watching the New York Giants as a kid with his dad, and the way our parents teach us by showing us, even how to be a proper fan. As O’Connell says: “My father, a big Giants fan, used to take me with him to the Polo Grounds. My first game, which I still remember vividly, was against the Boston Bees, as they were called. My second game was against “the gas house gang,” as my dad always called the Cardinals. The magic of those first impressions is still with me. I grew up with the advantage of a lot of inside info about the game, since my dad had been a semi-professional catcher.”

Although he has recently moved to Florida, O’Connell lived and wrote for several years in South County, where his daughter and grandchildren still live. But as a child in the Bronx, he says he can remember how the Giants used to open the Polo Grounds to Bronx kids every weekday afternoon in the summer — unlike nearby Yankee Stadium.

Richard O’Connell’s poems have appeared in The New Yorker, The National Review, The Atlantic Monthly, and many other journals. His latest collection is Waiting for the Terrorists, which includes “At the Polo Grounds.”