Sunday, December 12, 2004

The Game

Once a perfect diamond field
And a perfect summer day
A hallowed ground where truth reviled
The characters at play

They were men those men of old
Braves, and giants, in the land
Who stood above the tawdry gold
Stood above, and shook your hand

We made them sultans, princes and kings
Head and shoulders above the rest
We cheered them so, the skies would ring
For they were our very best

And all their fame we did conceive
There beside that fabled sod
We brought our sons, we did believe
That they were like a god

But there came a day we were not in awe
When our innocence had fled
When the bum struck out, or he dropped the ball
Or his broken nose, like a mortal’s bled

Some walked away with down cast eyes
Determined to never look back
Some said our dreams were merely lies
Our champions were on the rack

But where young boys still choose up sides
In a vacant lot, or a farmers filed
We stand on the fringe where age abides
When it’s time has been repealed

It was so much more than just our game
It was the essence of our lives
It was winning and loosing
It was joy, it was pain
It was the coming of age and the rite of spring
It was glorious victory and bitter defeat
It was sunshine, it was rain…
Old sultan’s of swat refrain…

Once a perfect diamond field
And a perfect summer day
A hallowed ground where truth reviled
The characters at play

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