Repost- Final Revision- A Moment in the Sun

How to Join	Member's Area	Private Library	Search	Sanctuary		Login
Main Forums	Discussion	Tech Talk	Mature Content	Archives	A home without a wall, Our haven without ends, A circle we all call Our Family of Friends!

David2
Member

since 2000-03-22

Posts 407

0 posted 2003-08-26 08:10 PM

A Moment In The Sun

Some time ago I met a man,
Sam Ryan was his name,
Quite tall and tan, with weathered face;
And baseball was his game.

In Michael's Bar on Digby Street
We shared some drinks one night
And as we drank he told a tale
Of whimsical delight.

He spoke of his not recent past
When he was young and strong
And as he spoke his voice took on
The rhythms of a song.

It started with a hopeful lad
Who felt his fortune's call
Lay on a brilliant field of green
Engaged in playing ball.

So fifteen years he gave his all
To make it to The Show;
For playing ball was in his blood,
And all he cared to know.

But time waits not for any man,
And skills once sharp must fade.
As most recieve no just reward
For dues that have been paid.

So when the final day arrived
To set aside his dream,
With great surprise he got a shot
To jointhe big league team,

The owner wanted Sam to have
One lasting memory
For years of effort, pain and sweat,
While toiling thanklessly.

Who could have known that joyful day
Of ironies untold
And fates that waited silently
So quickly to unfold.

The Major Leagues, his Holy Grail,
The hurdle that remained
One game, one day, one uniform,
One goal at last attained

This game would make his place secure
In baseball's record book,
A proof to any one who dared
To take the time to look.

He felt a little sad because
He knew he wouldn't play.
But thoughts like these would not begin
To spoil his special day.

And when the day he'd waited for
And worked for hard drew near,
He knew he'd found the perfect way
To end a long career...

He took his place upon the field
And shagged some outfield flies.
So overwhelmed he fought back tears
That welled within his eyes..

The wait seemed an eternity,
Until he heard the call;
At last the game was under way,
The umpire yelled "Play Ball!"

Through every inning played that day
His teammates gave their best;
And deep inside he felt a pride
Swell fast within his chest.

Then, as the game drew near its end
(Much to the team's chagrin)
They knew without some help they'd have
But little chance to win.

They needed four to win the game
With one out left to call;
And though the bags were loaded then,
Their hope, at best, was small.

They weren't quite dead, for due to swing
Was Jake "The Hit Man" Hoak;
The best they had was up to bat,
And left them full of hope.

But, as he bounded toward the plate,
He tripped as if on cue.
The crack was heard throughout the stands---
His ankle snapped in two.

"I'm sorry, Skip," was all he said,
"It looks like I'm done in."
His face contorted from the pain;
His countenance was grim.

The coach let out the sigh one sighs
When forced at last to yield.
The only chance they had to win
Lie broken on the field.

Now Sam was all the coach had left
To tempt the hands of fate,
And with a silent prayer he sent
Our hero to the plate.

At once a universal gasp
Arose among the crowd.
They knew that Ryan had no chance,
And murmured it aloud.

The walk between the bench and home
Seemed like a country mile,
But Ryan slowly made his way
To face his final trial.

"Just let me hit the ball, dear Lord,"
Was all that Ryan asked.
He hoped, but wasn't sure if he
Was equal to the task.

The pitcher held the ball secure,
And ground it on his hip.
He glared toward home and kicked the dirt,
A snarl upon his lip.

He thought he'd show this old man up,
The good for nothin' lout;
And play with him a little while
Before he got him out.

Alone at home Sam Ryan stood,
Consumed with fear and dread,
When to his great surprise, the ball
Came zooming toward his head.

He hit the dirt flat on his back,
And lingered there awhile;
Then slowly rose and brushed himself
With dignity and style.

The bat seemed somehow lighter now;
His legs felt stronger too;
And as he took a practice swing,
He knew his time was due.

With ease he stepped back in the box;
With calm he stood his ground.
In readiness he took his stance
And gestured toward the mound.

The pitcher fired the best he had---
The perfect pitch, it seemed.
"No one could hit a ball like that,"
Was what the crowd had deemed.

But sam unleashed a vicious swing
That thundered through the air;
The blast was heard for miles around,
And echoed everywhere.

The crowd in silence watched the ball’s
Majestic rapid flight.
But joyous cries erupted when
It vanished out of sight.

He trotted 'round the bases with
An elegance and grace.
His pride was evident behind
The smile upon his face.

Though fans might soon forget this day,
Sam Ryan never will.
Those wondrous cheers were meant for him;
He says he hears them still.

Just once to hit the ball that far,
He'd dreamed, but never done;
But on this day at last he'd gained
His Moment in the Sun...

[This message has been edited by David2 (08-26-2003 08:11 PM).]

Tim
Senior Member

since 1999-06-08

Posts 1794

1 posted 2003-08-26 08:49 PM

Bravo, enjoyed much.

Sunnyone
Member Ascendant

since 2000-07-06

Posts 5334
Staffordshire, England

2 posted 2003-08-27 01:55 AM

Oh, this is just the best!!!!! I'm a real baseball fanatic, and this story played out before my eyes as I read.....fantastic job, David, and what fun to read!!

Accept these small gifts from my gypsy heart ~~S~~

	⇧ top of page ⇧
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.