Today I hit it way out of the park
One of those few lucky swings, I guess
The ones that come every few years
To make up for the misses and grounders
There was a time when I thought
I could always hit them that far
But life and age interfered
Now I can’t even see them
Coming at me anymore
You know you are out of the game
When the bat doubles as a walking stick
Or a home run around all the plates
Takes forever and feels like a marathon
What remains is the memories
The smells of the dugout
The noises of the crowd
Nobody can take that away from you
No matter how often you miss