This verse is short. Still, an epic of sort.
Not earthshaking, just of local import
To those involved who time would acclaim,
Titans, by name, baseball their game.

To grasp its depth is to have lived The Streak.
Fifteen straight losses – no season so bleak –
To close diamond rivals who inflicted game pain.
Now a season anew, would it happen again?

Opening night, the Dominion Dome.
Well perhaps a stretch, just Woodgrove at home.
Doyle, their ace, would get the mound call.
National Anthem, the cry of “Play Ball.”

Winning truly starts at the very beginning.
Three up, three down, you’re out of the inning.
Enthusiasm high, both players and crowd –
Thenv a booming home run, three runs allowed.

Uneasy thoughts, but Doyle found his groove.
A fourth inning rally, home team on the move.
A walk, an error, bunt single, Doyle’s hit,
Four runs, the lead, would the Titans have the grit?

The spirit in the dugout exceeded yesteryear,
Encouragement, vocal, “Come Five” the cheer.
A fifth run eased the tension, made everyone aware:
“Could The Streak be over?” Excitement filled the air.

After each out a fist pump, Doyle in command.
Then the fateful seventh, the Wolverines’ last stand.
A double, a hit, now the score five to four –
Two grounders later, Streak gone! No more!

Cheers and hugs as the rain began to fall.
Joy at last in “Mudville,” Doyle standing tall.
Threw 118 pitches, bulldog tenacity,
A Titan among Titans, his heroic legacy.