Editor's
Pick:
STANDING ALONE
He
stands at the plate
with his heart beating fast.
The bases are loaded
the dye has been cast.
Mom
and Dad cannot help him
he stands all alone.
A hit at this moment
would bring the boys home.
The
ball nears the plate
he swings hard but misses.
There's a groan from the crowd,
with some boo's and some hisses.
A
thoughtless voice cries out,
"Strike out the bum!"
Tears fill the boy's eyes,
the game's no longer fun.
Parents
and spectators
with faces of stone;
Remember, he's just a boy
who's standing alone.
Please
open your heart
and give him a break.
For it's moments like this,
a great man you can make.
So
keep this in mind,
if you hear someone forget.
He's just a small boy
and not a man yet.
Author
unknown - Used by Twin Falls Traveling All-Stars
--
Submitted by Kade Hansen from Twin Falls, Idaho
e-mail: kadeh@pmt.org
THANKS,
KID
Thanks
kid, for being the reason,
I get to coach another season.
Who was more nervous that very first day?
You just learning, or me who must teach you to
play.
Out
on the diamond I feel like a kid again,
Yet after each practice and game, my age settles
back in.
My muscles would ache and bones feel sore,
A little ice and some ointment and I'm better than
before.
A
few moments each game I would steal far away,
Back to a time when I could still play.
The boyhood memories came rushing back in,
Just like a good slider complete with the
spin.
That
ol' team was a rough and tumble bunch,
We would play all day and never eat lunch.
We would play anyone, anytime, anywhere,
But no other team could give us a scare.
That
old sandlot is still there today,
Now sadly the boys no longer come to play.
The grass grows tall where home plate once
stood,
A long forgotten landmark in the old
neighborhood.
"Coach,
hey Coach" I hear from a place far, far away,
"Are you going to pitch to me sometime today?"
Suddenly, I am standing back on the mound,
Surrounded by my players just milling
around.
I
am back to the game, with you at last,
My boyhood memories tucked back in the past.
"Hey Coach, everything alright" I am asked with a
grin,
"Just perfect kid. Hey, thanks again."
--
Submitted by Joe Kyle from Cincinnati, Ohio
e-mail: thekylegang@juno.com
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His
team didn't win today,
but still it was all right,
for little "Johnny" did his best
and put up quite a fight.
He
missed the pass, yet tackled hard,
the team fell to defeat,
Yet little "Johnny" smiled his smile
his little body beat...
Mother
proud - naturally!
Thinking "Oh, this terrific kid of mine"
as he ran into his Dad's arms,
he heard, "Better luck next time!"
"Danny
didn't fair so well,
as he walked into the crowd
his parents' words were harsh
their voices cruel and loud.
"You
missed that pass! Where was your head?"
they said with a frown.
With saddened eyes, "Danny" looked up at them.
"I'm sorry I let you down."
How
sad it is to realize
there are those who still can't understand
that a kid is just a kid
and a game is just a game.
So,
Mom and Dad, please remember
in all you say and do,
That little child is listening
and needs support from you!
--
Submitted by Nancy Cole from Middletown
e-mail: Ncole@pahousegop.com
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DON'T
TALK TO ME!
They
began in Cincinnati with a loss in their debut.
And things looked bleak when the loosing streak
extended out to two.
With a quarter of the season gone, THE TEAM was one
and three.
"But if you're looking for the negative", they
said, "Don't talk to me"
As
the Country stood united, THE TEAM united too,
And proudly wore the uniform of red and white and
blue.
No separate introductions, TEAMwork was the
key!
"If you're gonna count us out," they said, "Hey
man, Don't talk to me!"
They
began to win and half way through, THE TEAM was
four and four.
But the skeptics still insisted "They won't win
many more."
When the mighty Rams limped from town with a hard
fought victory,
THE TEAM said, "If you think we're done... "Hey
man, Don't talk to me!"
THE
TEAM rolled through the next six games and made it
to the show,
Division Champs, a first round bye, then the
Raiders in the snow.
The nonbelievers said THE TEAM was lucky as could
be.
Again THE TEAM responded with... "Hey man, Don't
talk to me!"
THE
TEAM moved on to Pittsburgh with the Steelers
picked by ten.
But sixty minutes later, THE TEAM had won
again.
And thus became the Champs of the entire AFC.
"So if you bet and lost" they said, "Too Bad
...Don't talk to me!"
The
talk shows said, "THE TEAM played well to make it
to the dance.
But against the Greatest Show on Turf, they didn't
stand a chance."
The scribes all wrote "It won't be close, the Rams
have too much speed."
THE TEAM just said "Then talk to them ...Don't talk
to me!"
The
introductions set the tone. They played their
hearts out as a TEAM.
And they got the ball with seconds left, tied at
seventeen.
The announcer cried, "With no time outs, THE TEAM
should take a knee."
THE TEAM shot back their answer ..."Hey man, Don't
talk to me!"
In
disbelief the skeptics watched the field position
change.
Play by play THE TEAM was driving into field goal
range.
They shocked the world, when they kicked it through
to win the game by three.
Still don't think that TEAMwork wins? "Please
...Don't talk to me!"
--
Submitted by RW Brown from Whitinsville, MA
e-mail:
bobsaysso@gtcinternet.com
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LAST
DANCE
She
takes Center Stage,
as if being released from a cage.
She hits her first pose,
and that's when she knows.
This is it, her dream come true!
Still, it all seems like brand new;
The sound of the crowd,
it never has been so loud.
The heat of the spotlight,
makes her costume feel just a tad bit too
tight.
The
curtain rises and the music begins.
She floats across the stage,
like a dolphin with newly found fins.
Gracefully dancing as best she could,
knowing that again, she never would.
Just as the music came to a close,
one lonely tear fell from her nose.
The audience at their feet was enough to tell,
she had done incredibly well.
After
that performance, her life was complete.
For she has conquered the greatest feat.
The doctors had told her that she was too weak,
and that her future looked very bleak.
All she had to hold on to was that last chance,
it was to be her last dance.
That night as she drifted into an eternal
sleep,
all she could feel was the completion of that last
leap.
--
Submitted by Victoria from Des Plaines, IL
e-mail: Bella111786@aol.com
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THE
GAME OF PASSION
In
this scheme of deep and thrilling passion,
I face all my foes, my battles, my wars;
Wars of defense and haughty aggression,
While my heart becomes restless, beating its core .
. .
Sweat
across my brow hotly burns my skin.
No other expression or word or thought
Can tell the pleasure of my soul within;
For 'twas this passion from where joy was
brought.
So
with this dry tear in my eye, I stand . . .
(Lord, what will my heart -- a passivist --
bring?)
This round of dear affection in my hand,
Will soar so proudly, slicing the pale
string.
The
time has come, I am now whole, in all,
As I play my sweet game of basketball.
--
Submitted by Karen from Toronto, Ontario,
Canada
e-mail: azngoldenk@yahoo.com
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BASKETBALL
Basketball
is the sport of kings,
From the toss of the jump ball
to when the buzzer rings.
In basketball you have to try your best,
Once you do you'll beat all the rest.
If you want to win, never lose hope,
When there is a problem, learn to cope.
Take your shots with confidence,
Never with incompetence
Jump up for a rebound with all your might,
Don't ever do it in a state of fright.
Ask for help when you're in need,
For if you don't, you'll never succeed.
--
Submitted by Nick Schuelke from Rockford, MI
e-mail:
Bluboy1988@chartermi.net
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HOW
I FLY
I
am a skateboard
Flying through the air.
Doing anything because
I don't really care.
Flipping and grinding
With all my might.
Once I catch some air,
I know I'm in flight.
Spinning
and twisting
With my natural-born flair.
Swirling like the blade
That is cutting my hair.
Being watched by my fans,
While doing my best.
With the sweat running down my chest,
I know in my heart
I'm better than the rest.
But
I have to confess
Why I am the best?
It is the heart that my God gave me
Planted in my chest.
--
Submitted by Brian M. from College Park, MD
e-mail: bluzlick@msn.com
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CHEERLEADER
A
cheerleader is special and shows great pride,
With poms in her hands and a megaphone by her
side.
A smile on her face and spirit in her heart,
She leades the crowd with moves that are sharp.
Add In jumps and stunts and chants to yell,
Being a cheerleader is really quite swell !!!!
--
Submitted by Kim Turlich - Vaughan from Belle
Chasse, LA
e-mail: bcycheer@cmaaccess.com
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THE
SUPERBOWL
Two
teams who are the best
Will play each other and be put to the
test
A
Giant year of injuries and plays observed
Did he really give him the sack he
deserved?
Fired
coaches, primadonnas who play
Moss and Green grass will not be on the field
today.
The
winners won't play on the Frozen Tundra that
day
And hope 49 seconds is enough for a play
You
bet a Buc and pray your team will win
and deliver the Parcel without chagrin
You'll
watch your team Ram through the line
Like a Bear or an Eagle ready to dine.
A
lover may take your wife and Steel'er away
And Pack'er in a Jet to take her today
For
when it's all over and the teams take their
toll
You know you are ready for the
Superbowl.
--
Submitted by Mary G. from Tampa, FL
e-mail: mglpn1206@hotmail.com
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THE
HOCKEY GAME FIGHT
I
was at the hockey game, it sure was a sight,
until someone pushed and started a fight.
They threw the equipment to the side,
as the crowd noticed they were in for a ride.
The refs came and broke it up,
one kneed the guy right into his cup!
As they went to the box, the crowd cheered
and one hockey player said he's growing a
beard;
isn't that wierd?
--
Submitted by Kenny from Canton, MI
e-mail: kenken2k1@msn.com
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GOING
HOME
Walking
across the cool green grass in early December,
Memories of football cross my mind.
Memories so special but so fragile to hold.
Looking at the worn and torn up field from our long
practices.
The sun gazes over the long trees.
The season is over and it is time for me to go
home.
Trying to walk away, the field pulls me back as if
I can't leave.
Pictures of us practicing like soldiers getting
ready for battle
with our general leading us. But it is time to go
home.
Time to move on. The thing is though,
my heart and my soul is already home.
I am home.
--
Submitted by Josh from East Berlin, CT
e-mail: Jlong83@hotmail.com
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I
play the game I play it smart,
My energy comes from tha heart,
I use my head, I use my feet
*Why* cause I'm 100% athlete.
--
Submitted by Kate Lambert from Harrisonburg, VA
e-mail: Indahoop23@hotmail.com
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HOME
RUN
To my Dad for taking me to my first ball game in
1967.
Thanks!!
Across
the seams the stitches crawl.
Only to hear an umpire's call.
Propelled in motion though the air
within white lines a hit was fair.
Over
the fence it soon would carry.
Screams were heard through hill and valley.
A youth reached as people pushed and shoved.
He closed his eyes as the ball nestled in his
glove.
The
runner rounded the bases and advanced the
score.
The batsman doffed his cap as the crowd applauded
more.
He held the ball tightly within his grasp.
It was scuffed lightly from the infield
grass.
It
rests safely against the glow of a burning
candle.
Where it is seen high and proud above the fireplace
mantle.
It's been passed down from father to son.
Youthful eyes stare till the day is
done.
In
time no one knew from where it came.
It will always be thought of from the deciding
game.
Home Run !
--
Submitted by Genaro Urso from Jacksonville, FL
e-mail: genaro008@aol.com
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THE
LOVE OF THE GAME
The
Time
The Effort
The pain
The Passion
The Strength
The Courage
You sacrificed it all for
The love of the game
Happiness
Spirit
Dreams
Success
Respect
Enthusiasm
You gained it all from
The love of the game
--
Submitted by H. Harper from Burlington, ON,
Canada
e-mail:
goldielocs25@hotmail.com
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MEDALS,
NUMBERS AND JERSEYS
The
number of medals received means nothing,
They are pieces of metal attached to a string.
The number of internal wars fought and won means
everything.
It's all in the strength of your dream.
The number or brand of your jersey says
nothing,
nor the whimsical name of your team.
It is the size of the fight in the player,
it's how much you're willing to risk for a
dream.
--
Submitted by Gely from Brownsville, TX
e-mail: gelysayslaterz@aol.com
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THE
SWIMMER
She
stands so tall over the water, higher than all
Diving so smoothly, slicing in like a knife
She carves her strokes in perfect flight
Reaching over the surfaces, she breathes in air
Fast through the water she rips and tears
She's ahead of the others, the audience will
cheer
She flips and heads back, now the finish is
near
Pulling and straining with all of her might
She races to the end never giving up the fight
As she reaches the wall, she's beaten them all!
--
Submitted by Carol Merolla from Johnston, Rhode
Island
e-mail: AFD10@home.com
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We
look at the scoreboard, it's the ninth inning
We all are praying in hopes of winning
And now our best chance walks up to the plate
These next couple pitches
will
decide our fate
He
looks at us all and
gives us a smile
Then says the next pitches will be worth all the
while
He takes the next pitch because it's not his
type
But then he frowns as the ump says " One
strike!"
He
gets back up to the plate
and
swings at the next pitch
But it's too late for
he has whiffed
Now the count is 0-2
He takes to one knee and ties his shoe
He
has determination in his eye
If he misses the next pitch, he knows he will
die
But he belts the next pitch
as
it flies in the air
It goes over the fence
still
in mid-air
We
jump up and down trying
to be tame
The score was 10-9 in
the Championship Game
--
Submitted by Jordan Marquez from California
e-mail: SurferCA24@aol.com
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CHILLY
WILLY OR THE DAY
SATAN CAUGHT A COLD
A
great uproar went all over the land,
one more intense than ever seen before,
beyond all the expectations of most,
this one made most people hit the floor
Even
God himself couldn't have created such a
miracle,
and why would he if he could,
but the event that shook the world,
is to this day not understood
By
now you may have heard,
but again it is quite a surprise,
what changed the world forever,
and made people open their eyes
To
end this torrent torment,
from Tokyo to the small city of Dover,
if you hadn't guessed it, the Cubs won the world
series,
and hell has just frozen over!
--
Submitted by Michael Hainline from Rockford, OH
e-mail:
korbendallasi@hotmail.com
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