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An Ode To Spring Baseball
- Manya Malhotra, MYP 4
The world awakens in spring,
Blooming in blasts of color,
The frosty gray winter melted away by the bright sky.
Blue sky, yellow sun, green grass.
White leather, red seams.
The uniforms are steamed. The grass is mowed. The infield
is raked. The crackerjacks are crunchy.
Spring sings, softly at first.
But the proud, familiar rhythms, always find their way back.
The crack of the bat, the zip of the arm, the whoosh of the
pitch, the pop of the glove.
Spring gets your arms prickled with promise and potential.
Hope bubbles up. Optimism overflows. Because this year,
this year, things will be new. Different. Better.
So here’s to the diving plays,
the backward K’s,
the double plays,
the bench-clearing brawls,
the homers,
and the ones that could’ve been.
I believe in spring. We all do.
In the spring, baseball begins again.
And anything is possible when the umpire
yells,
Play ball.