The Game Goes On
In a June vacant lot
My ball broke a window clear down the block
And that swing started a dream.
That went into July
Into bush league nights
And bus rides from burb to burb.
Our nights were days.
Sometimes when I hit Musial's shoes fit,
If someone wasn't trying to wear them already.
I called my bat by name
And had a great big smile for the girls and guy
Who contracted to put my name on bubble gum cards.
August heat simmered.
Dog days dragged on. In the steamy night air
Tired muscles stretch making impossible plays.
Could today be my turn to make Pipp's mistake,
Or take Casey's turn at bat?
His perhaps, but not mine.
My game, my dream, will go on and on.
Now in September,
I watch kids break windows down the block
And see Future's rookie running back for a long ball.
WHAT A BOY!
Written by Don Janssen especially
for "Go Pro Baseball Wise."