THE aged catcher dons his mask— His gait is stiff and slow— The heartless people laugh to see Him hobbling to and fro— He's watched the stars for many years, And seen them come and go! He doesn't seem to halfway care About a glorious name— He doesn't even fret himself About the thrills of fame— One day's like any other day— It's all part of the game! His future's mostly in the past— He has no sparkling dream— He does his stuff in heavy style, Devoid of youthful steam— But the fans and players count him still The backbone of the team! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPRESSIONS OF FRANCOIS-MARIE AROUET (DE VOLTAIRE) by EZRA POUND THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL by WILLIAM BLAKE CHAUCERS WORDES UNTO ADAM, HIS OWN SCRIVEYN by GEOFFREY CHAUCER FOOLIN' WID DE SEASONS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE HILL WIFE: LONELINESS by ROBERT FROST THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX [APRIL 9, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE |