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It was twenty four July, the final inning. It�s a tie. And the sun was hot and dust would billow up and then back down again. The air was still as rock as we watched the runner walk, then she turned the corner fast, and then she slid down safe at second. Standing tall and strong and still, as would a warrior on a hill she stepped down and ground her foot to get her footing. Came the batter from the deck, she laid the bat against her neck and met the pitchers wily gaze then quickly stepped into the box. The air was still as rock, and it was hot, and dust, and chalk, the winning run�s on second, two out, final inning. Then came Thunder at the bat and wearing Twenty Seven�s hat she set about her business, to drive the runner safe to home. The pitcher fired a bullet, down and in. She had to pull it. And she swung and Crack! the hit flew mostly foul. Then the pitcher fired again and Twenty Seven swung again only this time Crack! the hit flew mostly fair. And the ball grew smaller, still, there was that centerfielder, Lil, who wasn�t quite prepared to let things by so easily. As she ran and tried to catch it, and she ran and jumped to grab it, and she put her glove right on it. I swear it�s true! When she raised her glove in victory it was more than plain for all to see her glove was tangled mess of leather flapping in the wind. The ball had smashed right through it, and was bouncing, rolling still, and that running runner scampered home a winner. Cause when Thunder sets to hittin� it just might as well be written that when Thunder hits a ball, it�s gonna stay hit after all. Ode to Thunder, dust and chalk, and victories plenty. |
| Ode to Thunder by "Mr Reliable" (as posted on message board) |