In honor of one of the greatest men to ever play the game of baseball.
It wasn’t long ago,
I was a normal Italian
kid in the burrow. Stick ball
was the game of the day.
How times have changed.
The sound of the crowd,
The crack of the bat,
The cheers from the mates.
They call me “The Iron Man.”
My fingers tingle with the
touch of metal. My voice is
unsteady and hoarse, yet I
must come to bat one final time.
One more pitch, one more swing.
“I consider myself the luckiest man
in the world.”
The cheers and cries become muffled as
the dirt covers my eternal tomb.
A smile creeps across my cold lips
and deaf ears.
“Strike three Lou. Come play on my team.”