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The Old Man Behind The Dugout
6 May, 2008
Author: Mark Spencer

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Brandon spent a lifetime trying
To make his father proud.
Little league through semi-pro,
He’d be a star, he vowed.

His father never missed a game,
The first to cheer and shout.
He had the best seat in the park
Right behind the dugout.

When Brandon made it to the show,
And he wore Angel red,
His father’s eyes filled up with tears,
“I’m proud of you.” he said.

For seven year, his dad became
A fixture at the park,
Sitting there behind the dugout,
Until the lights went dark.

And then one game against the Sox,
The old man didn’t show.
The Red Sox took the early lead,
Striking a crushing blow.

Then Brandon had to take a call,
His mother on the phone.
“Your father had a heart attack,
His fate remains unknown.”

He’d gone through bypass surgery,
Now in intensive care,
The doctors said they were afraid
That he might perish there.

Brandon asked that a TV set
Be placed near his dad’s bed.
He told them to turn on the game;
And they did as he said.

The seventh inning started slow,
The Sox went three and out.
But when the Angels came to bat,
The crowd began to shout!

For on the LCD display,
These words flashed on the screen:
“Let’s win this one for Brandon’s Dad!”
It was a stirring scene.

But the team was down by seven,
They’d need a miracle.
What happened next would be described
As something magical.

With two out and bases loaded,
Brandon stepped to the plate.
He connected with a curve ball,
And hit it long and straight.

His grand slam hit the upper deck;
The fans shouted with glee.
The cheers were deafening that day,
Though still behind by three.

And through the bottom of the ninth,
The score remained the same.
The Angels had one final chance,
To win the baseball game.

The first batter hit a single,
The second flied to right,
The third homered into center,
To everyone’s delight.

The fourth walked on a three-two pitch,
A bunt came after that;
With one out and two men on base,
Brandon was up to bat.

The count reached two balls and a strike,
With the first three pitches.
Then Brandon took a mighty swing,
Splitting the ball’s stitches.

But the ball landed in the park,
He heard the base coach shout,
He rounded second, watching as
One runner was thrown out.

The score was tied with two men out,
And Brandon held at third.
And as a city held its breath,
A father’s heart had stirred.

The next pitch was a shot to left,
And the throw came too late.
Brandon slid in below the tag,
His hand upon home plate.

The team went on a winning streak,
And earned a playoff birth.
They were reminded day to day,
What every game was worth.

The old man behind the dugout,
Became their guiding light.
An inspiration to them all,
To never cease to fight.

For even Angels need to reach
Beyond their obstacles.
That old man gave them courage to
Believe in miracles.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Russ (24.144.26.87) -- Wednesday, May 7 2008, 08:09 am

I Love Baseball!!

Excellent poem here Mark. It had me from the first stanza.
retsof (74.52.217.218) -- Sunday, May 11 2008, 11:15 am

good

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