Image via Wikipedia

Image via Wikipedia

Hair in a pony tail, ball cap on.

Wearin’ my team colors, ready to rock on.

Husband agitated cause I’m makin’ him wait.

Hey, gotta have my face on, I gotta look great!

Finally at the ballpark, game already rockin’.

Peanut shells crunchin’ quickly walkin’.

“Excuse me, Pardon me”.  Finally to our seats.

Hot dog and a beer.  This is hard to beat.

Into the first inning and our team at the plate.

Ooh, it’s my favorite player and he is lookin’ great!

Strike one.  Ball one.  Strike two and then,

A crack as wood meets leather and that ball is gone forever.

As one, the crowd roars and on our feet we stand and grin,

We watch our hero round the bases and bring that first run in.

Back and forth the score goes; it’s the bottom of the ninth inning.

Two outs already, bases loaded our last chance at winning.

Crowd silent, on our feet as my hero takes his stance.

Only down by one, we know this is his chance.

They’ve brought the “closer” in, the one with all the skills.

He’s throwin’ heat, he’s throwin’ low, he’s going for the kill.

A nasty strike zooms o’er the plate and a collective gasp is heard.

My guy steps back, deep breath in, and not a single word.

Ball one is what the next pitch is and the crowd begins to whisper,

My batter glares toward the mound, “That all you got there, Mister?”

The pitcher shakes off two signals from the catcher,

Checks the runners on the bases, winds up the widow maker.

Like lightning that ball leaves his hand, and with a mighty swing,

He hits the best homerun grand slam that we have ever seen.

Our team has won, the crowd goes wild, the stadium is rockin’!

Our boys are roundin’ those bases and not a one of them is walkin’!

Hand slappin’ our seat mates and huggin on each other.

A long night of baseball ended.  Don’t you just love those boys of summer?