by Philip Pecorino
Oft times better part of the day
waiting for that one play.
Then, it’s “Hurray”
or “What do ya say!”
and seldom just the simple ,”OK”.
How more beautiful could it be than to admire the 3-6-3?
Perhaps a 5-4-3 clearing the sacks such a vision might be!
Or with runners on all,
just send a ball over the wall
with a loud crack of the bat
and I’ll shout “now how bout that?”
A 9-4-2 with a tag on the shoe
brings you up on your feet
at the sight of the feat
and out with a “how do you do!”
Show me a 2-6-3
and a “Well, I’ll say, lookie there!”
exclaimed loud and clear.
So play after play on through the day,
never leaving room for dismay,
if you treasure the game not a one is lame.
But, there come those that make you exclaim,
midst the ebb and flow of the game,
one for which no other rates the name:
the “play of the game”.
Published in Pure doggerel, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments