Little League Coach

Little League Coach

Total recall remembering little leaguers,
Never played much baseball, my talents too meager,
But ask anyone, the mothers of the daughters,
The fathers of the sons that played for Pop Warner,
How hard we played the game, every extra inning,
No game the same.

Let me start at the beginning,
Jimmy was his name.
He wasn’t much a player,
But, he loved the game.
Give me time to remember,
I see it clear as a bell.

Two out, six to two,
Not a chance in Hell.
I didn’t know what to do.
They brought in a ringer.
He was older than twelve.
He stood so much bigger than any of my elves.

Throwing heaters from the mound,
Striking out the side,
‘Twas our last chance to gain ground,
Little Jimmy cried,
“Please, put in a pinch hitter, coach, I’m just no good.
I hate to be a quitter, I’d hit if I could.”

“Winning this big game means more than my at bat,
We’re way behind in score.
Here’s my hitting hard hat.”
I saw the look in his eye and knew what to do.
Every parent asked me why.
The Ump called strike two.

Slowly the pitcher wound and fired in the ball,
Pausing first, he crossed the mound charging at the call.
The Umpire called a balk and that walked in a run,
Lefty, our next and best batter hit a big home run.
A grand slam home run, that’s how we won the game,
Oh, how well I remember, Jimmy was his name.