September 28, 2011

OMD! It's the last day of the baseball season!

Citi Field, empty. Sob.
It's actually here. It's not just a bad dream, like I'd hoped. It's real. The baseball season has come and gone. Sob. Seems like it was only yesterday that Spring training was starting up.

I'll never survive. My secret plan will help -- but I still don't know if I'll make it all the way to Spring. When all the major MLB players visit me this winter, and Jason Varitek moves in for a month or so, I'll probably feel better. But right now it's so hard.

There won't be a baseball game tomorrow night (barring any ties at the end of tonight's games). The season has ended. How could this have happened? And what can we do so it never happens again? Those are my questions.

Oy, I can't believe it. I'm going to go lie down and have a sick headache. How will you cope with this tremendous, gut-wrenching loss?


Artichoke Annie said...

For Keith:

365 by Jack Buck

When someone asks you your favorite sport
And you answer Baseball in a blink
There are certain qualities you must possess
And you're more attached than you think.
In the frozen grip of winter
I'm sure you'll agree with me
Not a day goes by without someone
Talking baseball to some degree.
The calendar flips on New Year's Day
The Super Bowl comes and it goes
Get the other sports out of the way
The green grass and the fever grows.
It's time to pack a bag and take a trip
To Arizona or the Sunshine State
Perhaps you can't go, but there's the radio
So you listen-you root-you wait.
They start the campaign, pomp and pageantry reign
You claim the pennant on Opening Day

From April till fall
You follow the bouncing white ball
Your team is set to go all the way.
They fall short of the series
You have a case of the "wearies"
And need as break from the game
But when Christmas bells jingle
You feel that old tingle
And you're ready for more of the same.
It will be hot dogs for dinner
Six months of heaven, a winner
Yes, Baseball has always been it.
You would amaze all your friends
If they knew to what ends
You'd go for a little old hit.
The best times you're had
Have been with your Mom and your Dad
And a bat and a ball and a glove.

From the first time you played
Till the last time you prayed
It's been a simple matter of love.

Artichoke Annie said...

For tomorrow and the days after...



writenow said...

Thanks, Annie. In the winter, I'll cry into my handkerchief and visit those poems. Right now, I gotta go watch the last games. Damn!