THIS is the time of the year, my boys, When we all get out and make a noise To see the oldsters fall in line And act like boys in a baseball nine. Just see that fat man and his nerve, Who can't come near the simplest curve! Just see that man so lean and thin Who don't know if he's out or in! Observe that slide the ground uproot! See batsmen dodging at a shoot! See, waving wildly in the air, The strikes that should be home runs there! And when at last that game is done And ended the spectators' fun, The sprains and woe that hold in thrall The gray-head who would play baseball! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE WARM CRADLE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |