I’ll s’plain once more:
When you make a run,
it’s called a score.
There are pop-ups and flies and
strikes and balls.
The game is played in summer and fall.
There are Yankees and Mets,
Sox, red and white,
and the price of a hot dog is out of sight.
You have Ruth and Cobb, Stan the Man,
who caused countless kids to become lifelong fans.
For Mickey and Willie and the Duke,
hitting the sphere was never a fluke.
So in a nutshell that’s the great American Game
Without it the world would not be the same.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME