He puts on a helmet, picks up the bat,

and walks to the plate, “gotta hit and that’s that.”

The crowd starts to yell, the game’s on the line

last inning, two outs, the score’s nine to nine.

Dad yells, “Go get it,” Mom wrings her hands,

coach hollers, “hit it”, but alone there he stands.

Heros are made is seconds such as this,

but he’s just a little boy. what if he should miss?

Years after this game’s ended and he’s little no more,

will he remember the outcome or even the score?

No he’ll have forgotten if he was out, hit, or a run,

he’ll only look back at on his friends and the fun.

So cheer this boy on, alone with his fate;

help him remember with fondness this stand at the plate.

Spend your time wisely and help in his quest

to be a hitter with confidence and always his best.

And when the game’s over, this boy can stand tall,

for you’ve helped him prepare to give it his all!

Author Unknown

Tags: Poem