3 Up,3 Down....The Baseball Game Poem by elysabeth faslund

Crowds in bleachers. Hot Dogs, Chili Fritos. Pickles.
Sodas guzzled. Tension high. Blue the sky.
Pallette clouds...acrylic colors.
Hot, that afternoon.
Children laughing. Splashing water puddles
Under benches.
Shadowed cool.
Paper cups, flags breeze-blown...
East, West...tension winds.

Home Team in the field. Two outs.
Bottom of the seventh. Score...3 to 2.
Home advantage.
Visiting Team standing. Tension roars wild.
For McNighty wasn't a clean-up batter.

Up to the plate. Spit on his hands.
Realigned his cap. Spit on his bat.
Glared at Home Ump.
Home Ump...blue steel.
Catcher fingered a call.

High fly foul. Crowd went wild!
Pitcher threw. Ball flew low...Strike two!
Crowd roared, 'One more! One more! '

McNighty stepped away from the plate.
Readjusted his grip...spit.
Catcher opened, closed his glove.

Pitcher's leg up, high arm arc,
Ball's release a blur...
98, it clocked that day.
Caps flew high in the field!

3 up,3 down...Home Team danced,
Surrounded the mound...and
Their silent mate...
Known as 'The Clean-Up Pitcher.'

McNighty kicked dirt at the Home Ump.
Home Ump spoke to his captain.
The captain nodded...walked away
McNighty was off that team...

Forever, and a day.