Pitcher Perfect Poem by Griffin Macbeth

He stands on the rubber in the top of the first
His desire to win
An unquenchable thirst
He stares in at his catcher
His partner in crime
Pitches coming together
Like lyrics in a rhyme
His hand on the ball
Fingers across the seams
No worries at all
He knows that these teams
Cannot touch his motivation
He's playing with these hitters
But this is no playstation
This is focus and when hes locked in
Its hard to escape
Hes superhuman on the mound
His bag of tricks up his cape
Hes in his own world
His skills are from a different planet
Hes stealing at bats from these fools
Hes a ball playing bandit
Some say hes born with it
But he says its something he achieved
I think his hard work got him here
But others will believe
That it just happened
Part of a bigger chain reaction
He practices every day
Trying to find even minor infractions
So when game time comes around
You better be ready
Because when hes balling you’re free-falling
Its a heartbreaker, Tom Petty
So when your sitting on the bench
With your ego bruised
Remember the battle he won
And the one in which you lose.