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Cricket stymies me — as I'm sure baseball does to the English. Never the twain shall meet, I guess, though they are blood relatives.
That tennis poem is horrendous! Thanks, though for trying : ) It just doesn't do justice to the game, I don't think.
Ralph, you are a prolific, irrepressible poet. I wish things would roll out of me more easily.
Still working on cobbling together that baseball ballad I wrote once about my son's summer traveling baseball team. It seems to have gone down a hole. FWIW, here's the only part I remember. "Grogie" (long "o") was the team's manager. Kevin Grogan, if you're listening. He'd handle everything from scheduling to traveling to raking/grooming the field before games. He poured his heart out to make the boys dream.
Ode To Grogie (Long "o")
Out of the cornfields of Milton
A guy named Grogie came
with a wagon full of baseballs and a rake.
He said, "Last night The Babe appeared in my dream
and said, 'Hey Grogie, go build a team'"
so for the summer our sons he did take.
...(refrain)
...Grogie was his name and baseball was his game
...springtime summertime any old time at all
...Double doubleheader, triple triple tripleheader,
...night or day the more the better
...Music to his ears was, "Let's Play Ball!"
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