BASEBALL
A baseball game on a summer evening.
There’s nothing better.
Batter up.
He hopes he’s not in a slump.
Swing and a miss.
The pitcher is dialed in.
It didn’t fly into anyone’s mitt.
This one’s a hit.
I don’t care who’s playing.
I just want to watch baseball.
Any team will do.
Who knew.
It’s America’s favorite pastime.
It’s a unique sport.
The defense possesses the ball.
I hope the umpire makes a good call.
Is it the American League or the National League.
Doesn’t matter to me.
As long as they can play.
It’s always a good day.
The rules haven’t changed much.
Stats are important.
They play baseball everyday.
Sometimes there has to be a replay.
I love sports.
Baseball, football, volleyball, or track.
They’re all good.
And they’re all played into adulthood.
Baseball’s my favorite.
It’s a thinking man’s game
You’ll always need a strategy.
It’s a great game, definitely.
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Author:
dhtwenge (
Offline) - Published: October 12th, 2023 20:45
- Comment from author about the poem: My son started playing baseball when he was about 4 years old and he's almost 35 now. He's an outdoorsman and a big nature guy and my husband and I both come from big sports families. Sports have always been a big part of our lives. This is just one thing that I write about but it's one of my favorites. Thank you.
- Category: Unclassified
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Comments2
sport is a wonderful fulcrum
for a family to rally round
and grow closer with..
thanks for sharing
Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate the kind words.
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