Spring hadn’t come
And Brackett was cold
We better start early
We’re fat and we’re old
No one will show
For practice I fear
Unless Rich is in town
And someone brings beer
A practice was called
And most puppies came
John took offa work
Double D did the same
A shot to the box
Attention was rapt
Mark fielded the ball
The rubber band snapped
No pitcher to spare
The whole season long
So Dan took the ball
And lit up a bong
He sized up the batter
Who stood at the plate
First pitch he delivered
Was sent out of state
Mike bent and he scooped
A hop ’tween his legs
Threw the ball to the fans
Instead of John Beggs
No fielding’s contagious
For good or for ill
Couldn’t stop the old grapefruit
From rolling uphill
Steve Kaback was tracking
The whole team was tense
Too bad he was playing
On a field with a fence
Chris Roberts Chris Roberts
Arm of renown
Chris Roberts Chris Roberts
The ball’s coming down
Still top of the first
We’re down by a bunch
Some fans are leavin’
And some blowin’ lunch
Now John’s in the game
’Cuz he plays when he’s hurt
Why should he do laundry
The field’s made o’ dirt
He takes charge and says,
“Y’all listen here -
If it’s hit in the air,
Pretend it’s a beer”
A routine fly ball
Dave holds back and then
A late burst of speed
For ESPN
A scorcher to Andy
He closes his eyes
Over to first
A pleasant surprise
A pop up to first
It’s off with the hat
Beggs tucks it away
Now we’re up to bat
Our lead-off can run
Though hardly a waif
A grounder to short
A dash and he’s safe
When Andy sees Downey
Standing on first
He’s scoring or moving
To third at the worst
When Beggs sees a pitch
Outer half of the plate
A liner to right
The trick is to wait
An eagle, a mountain
The receding tide
Ron’s gonna swing
If it’s high and outside
He hits the ball long
The outfielder’s beat
Watch Beggsy advance
About sixty feet
Now Mikey stands in
To make up for his muff
The ump says, “Ball three!”
Mike says, “Good enough”
The bases are full
Of men wearing “o-runge”
We must flush them home
By hit or by plunge
(last two lines compliments of F. Randall)
Back to the game
Hey, wait just a sec
I almost forgot
Who’s standing on deck
He plays the hot corner
And wears 24
When the ball’s in his zone
He knows what it’s for
The prettiest swing
That I’ve ever seen
Line drive through the box
The ball’s on the green
They kick it around
And airmail it home
Frank moves up to second
And stands there alone
Ewing’s the guy
Whose groin needs repair
But he’s got a good eye
His bat speed is fair
The pitch is inside
That’s his cup o’ tea
A shot down the line
Past bag number three
Frank lumbers ’round third
And John around first
He’s already worked
Up a powerful thirst
He thinks about two
Oh no, don’t you dare
Just look who’s standing
On deck over there
It’s Ryno the rookie
The future, the now
He waits for his pitch
Uncoils, then POW
The fence seems so close
The high graceful arc
We all knew that that one
Was leaving the park
Mark and his pencil
Kept track of the game
Two dots would be placed
By Simonson’s name
If the lead runner
Whose feet were like lead
Could keep his legs churning
And just stay ahead
They did cross the plate
With Ewing in front
Then Roberts stepped in
Thinking, “I’ll bunt”
“I know it’s illegal
And I’ll be called out
But it’ll be worth it
The team will fall out”
The pitcher delivered
The ball on the rise
And Chris squared away
A total surprise
To Jimbo on deck
and Steve in the hole
But mostly to Mike
With his wife on the knoll
Mike ran down the hill
His arms were outstretched
Drinks were tipped over
And children were fetched
The whole park fell silent
The ball at its peak
Mark feared a roster
Move later that week
He hollered to Chris
From the box where he stood,
“You’d best hit the ball
You’d best hit it good”
Chris drew back his bat
The ball coming down
Put his foot in the bucket
Hit the ball on the ground
The ball squirted through
It must’ve had eyes
Made a short turn at first
Still crackin’ wise
Said, “What’s the big deal?
I don’t see the trouble
If you’d just let me bunt
I might get a double”
That just made more smoke
Come outta Mike’s ears
“We’d better act now,”
Thought some of his peers
With Frank as distraction
A trick that’s so old
From behind Ron applied
A rasslin’ hold
The sleeper is quick
Eyes roll in the head
They laid the coach down
(Just sleepin’ - not dead)
The riot was over
The crowd settled back
To witness the fury
Of a Jim Bradt Attack
Hey look who’s here
Gettin’ off of his bike
“Hey Chad, grab a bat
Don’t trip over Mike”
He’s late to the park
No time to change clothes
Drills one to the gap
For Estelle Zoe Rose