Fastball Poem by Susan Lacovara

Up to bat, again,
While the bleacher-filled crowd looks on
They know my stats
My 'swing for the fences' stance
How I eye each pitch
Dig in deep, feet planted
Shoulders squared...

The hits and misses logged
On a scorecard, for all to see
The opponent, hurling
From his mound
The roar of the fans
Deafening, in their collective support
Of wanting me to get on base

They know my uniformed number
Proudly worn with my name stitched
Across my bruised back
They clap, they urge me on
I take the pitch, a heavy throw
And swing with might
From deep within my aging muscles
Unwilling to be 'caught looking'
And horribly strike out
In the bottom of the ninth