You don’t know me, Michael,
but I am your biggest fan.
Even though you are
brand new to the majors,
looking like a shining penny,
I invest my present fandom in you.
For in your swing
I see the grace of Mantle,
the power of Williams.
In a season already beyond
my wildest expectations,
you have me believing
anything in life is possible.
I get up out of bed each morning
with a spring in my step,
knowing that today will be good.
The world with it requisite aches and pains
is regulated to the bench
when you come up to bat.
So just keep hitting, Michael,
swinging for the fences of happiness.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME