Piece of Cake!

Now all that know me, as I play this game,
is this little thing that has my name.
I can’t figure out how it knows me not,
those doggone grounders that take a bad hop!

They’ve hit me high and they’ve hit me underneath,
heck, they’ve hit me in the teeth.
But no matter how I play-em,
it still goes without say-n,
I can’t figure out how it knows me not,
is those doggone grounders that take a bad hop!

Now I’ve played them from the mound,
I’ve played them at short,
I’ve even played them on every base,
but not matter how I play-em,
I still get smacked in the face!

Now I have heard all the coaches,
point and even approaches,
taking me by the hand and instruct,
but when I stay down,
I still get nailed in the crown,
and then I land on my butt!

Well, it’s the championship game,
the final name,
in who will take the league’s crown.
Two outs is the count and I look about,
and I just know that I gotta stay down!

CRACK… went the bat, and I start to step back,
but not time, the thing is coming towards me.
I put down my glove, on the grass like I should,
and close my eyes so I couldn’t see.

I wait for a smack, but instead I feel WACK,
right in the glove the ball goes.
I stand up amazed, then stiffen my gaze,
and like a pro to first goes my throw.

I’m the hero that night to everyone’s delight,
and the crowd goes wild with joy.
As the sports writers crowd in,
after the win,
for I am the golden haired boy!

So they asked me directly,
how was I so handy,
at fielding that grounder did I make.
So , took a deep breath, and said no less …
“Fellas … it was just a piece of cake!” :greengrin:

Coach B.