The Little Man Tries

A new season begins, with freshly cut grass,
and before you will know, it will all come to pass.

There’s skills to be learned, there’s hopes and there’s dreams,
and some will become real, no matter how hard that it seems.
The coach, the player, all for the team,
the parents, and those faces that will hopefully, beam.
There will be kids, and family, and people of all kinds,
for a game of big fun, that usually binds.
When the game becomes close, you’ll hear the roar of the crowd,
in case that you haven’t, it gets pretty darn loud.
The shoes will be green, the clothes will be dirty,
he’ll definitely miss it, when he turns the big fat thirty.
The thrill and the chill, the bats and the gloves,
when the game is on, there is nothing he more loves.

There might be a boy, a little lacking in size,
but he holds a heart of a lion, and oh how hard that he tries.
He rode the bench for awhile, cheering his team for support,
and when need be, he kept the book, for the paper to report.
His time will come, when he’ll get in the game,

and sooner or later they’ll all know his name.
He practices and practices, a heavy daily toil,
Buckets of sweat, and of tears, some blood and some soil.

HEY YOU! ITS TIME! HEY, GET IN THE GAME!
The time had come, to try and stake his own claim.
The bat in his hands, the look of fear in his eyes,
but at least he was swinging, oh how the little man tries.
The first time in the field, he misses a fly ball,
but it really didn’t matter, when the ump made the last call.

Another day, another field, nothings the same,
they play as a team, there’s no one to blame.
This time it’s much better, he has a little less fear,
his will, and his vision, is a lot more clear.
He watches the pitcher, with razor sharp precision,
to know when to swing, and to make the right decision.
He reaches 1st base, with 4 balls and a walk,
The team’s all abuzz, and the parents begin to talk.
A wild pitch, and off to 2nd he goes,
where this will lead, nobody knows.
He slides in so hard, a cloud of dust, and of dirt,
he loses some skin, boy that’s gonna hurt.
He pops up with a smile, safe on the base,
he’s happy, he’s joyous, he’s winning the chase.
We now have a man, in the scoring position,
the player, the team, an improved disposition.
The next pitch is delivered, the swing, oh hear the CRACK!
A liner to the outfield, Hey man! Nice SMACK!
The runner rounds 3rd, he knows he must score,
he crosses home plate, and thirsts for some more.
He finally did it, he scored his first run,
with the help of the team, WOW! That was FUN!

The results are the same, whether he wins, or he loses,
it’s all about the effort, and the choices that he chooses.
Always remember, no matter how much he cries,
that nothing is better, than the little man that tries.