Early November the world goes dark
No more trips to my favorite park
The crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd
Are sounds I can’t hear right now
Dismal news of players they can’t get
No one wants to be a New York Met
Third rate players stand in line
To make their millions of Cohen’s dime
Spring training, exhibition games not that far away
Soon it will be opening day
A new season begins with a brand-new slate
Opportunity arrives for a positive fate
THE POETRY OF THE GAME