Bbig Cricket Poem by Barry A. Lanier

On the field looking for nine counting eleven
Why I must surely be, in baseball heaven
Running wildly through shaved clover
Counting number of balls over
What have I gotten myself into?
Armed with hickory swords
Hovering like snoot overlords
Taking off in offensive strides
Faces beaming with pride
What have I gotten myself into?
Playing bat and ball on the ground
Why this just doesn't seem sound
Sending enemy balls six to four
Running while pulling up drawers
What have I gotten myself into?
Shouting out 'an over'
Is is time to leave the clover
Pitcher delivers a leg break
Looks to me like a mistake
What have I gotten myself into?
Pass on real quick now to Fall
And please give me baseball
Tomorrow I'll return the ticket
Can't seem to fanthom this cricket