The Phenom
The first out was routine,
A grounder had occurred.
A force at second base,
The runners, first and third,
“The phenom” now prepared
To get a double-play,
The catcher wagged a “two”,
A curve ball underway,
The batter should have guessed
That heat would not be sent,
But though his timing’s off,
Trajectory was bent,
The bat just clipped the ball,
And fouled high into stands.
So now the phenom thought,
A fastball he’d command.
Shook off the catcher’s sign,
One finger down and right,
The phenom took a breath
And threw with all his might,
The ball flew fast inside,
Made hitter’s pull commit,
He weakly tagged the ball
Into the shortstop’s mitt,
Who turned and made the toss
To second baseman’s west,
Avoiding runner’s track,
Collision was the quest,
The throw went on to first,
A laser beam was caught,
The double-play complete,
A win the phenom sought.
The pasttime might forget
The pitch that made the day
But not the crafty phenom
Who filed it away.
This poem was written/submitted by Huberjack.
(3 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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