Into the Gap

Aug. 20, 2001

It has been brought to my attention
That the Cubs are in the race
And that it may go down to the wire
When they meet Houston face to face

Into the gap the Cubs have gone deep
Where every fan's heart lies broken hearted
In spite of the turn of many seasons before
Their eternal hopes have again been jump started

The man on first has good speed
And the man at the plate likes his doubles
They're both looking to add
To the toiler's long list of troubles

The centerfielder is shaded toward left
And the rightfielder is playing close to the line
And as the hurler prepares his poisonous pitch
The batter squeezes his wood tarred with pine

A slider is hung right over the plate
The batter waits back, then swings before it's too late
Into the gap the hanging slider is smacked
And the runner is off as soon as it's cracked

The flurry of fielders is a beauty to behold
Every man moves swiftly, just as he's been told
Toward the ivy wall the outfielders scurry
While the lead runner rounds second amid the flurry

The second baseman runs out to receive the relay
At the lip of grass, he stands waiting intently
The ball's fired in without a hint of delay
While the runner tags third ever so gently

Being waved around, the runner barrels toward home
The second baseman swivels quickly and delivers the ball
Out of his seat, no fan does dare roam
Amid the dust cloud at home, all await the ump's call

Into the gap of a summer dream the ball rolls
Where winners and losers toil amid grassy knolls
And I will be there waiting for the umpire's call
With the eternal hope that the Cubs last deep into fall

Back to Poetry