The baseball gods giveth and taketh.
The Hall of Fame bears testimony to
players who have thrilled fans for years.
But, few, if any, remember Herb Score.
A lefty, with an incredible fastball,
he was compared to the legend Bob Feller.
Chance dances on the air pushed back
by a 100 miles per hour heater.
Fortune smiles as capriously
as a ground ball over a rough infield.
On May 7th, 1957 Score was felled by
a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald.
It hit him squarely in the eye, bloodying his face.
He was never the same afterwards.
How is it decided who should rise to the top
and who should literally fall by the wayside?
Ballplayers dream; baseball gods laugh.
When the cheering stops, when the crowd has gone home,’
there are few, if any people now who remember Herb Score.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME