Seventy Long Ones
A Race to the Finish
Breaking that Record
Is every boys wish
But not just one man
Is working for the dream
Every player, from pitcher to catcher
From each and every team
Each and every time
They stand at the plate
Complete concentration
Is seen on there face
As the pitcher nods the signal
And winds up is arm
He hopes the batter
Won’t do is ERA harm
As the ball speeds towards the plate
80,90,100 M.P.H.
It’s out of his hands now
Left only to fate
The batter, with only
A split second to react
Positions his body
A swings his bat
Maris’ is ’61
McGwire in ’98
Sosa close behind, but
All of them were great
Sometimes a crack
Sometimes a whiff
Sometime an out
Sometimes a hit
Play Ball!
Monday, October 5, 2009
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1 comment:
I get it, this is about that game you guys play! I'm not a sports fan but I like the portrayal in US movies of the kids with the baseball gloves and the relationship it helps them develop with their fathers. I get this feeling reading your poem, the starry eyed wonder of a child aged somewhere between 3 and 93. Well done.
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