I recently read a post from a 'blog friend' about her son's first game this year. Griffen will also be having his first game of the season next weekend. So, between her post and Griffen playing and the fact that he is no longer a Rookie but now a Minor which comes with the possibility of the much talked about "little league" issues that we have all heard. It reminded me of a poem that was printed in our newspaper last year that I cut out and have had on the fridge since. I did have to uncover it as artwork, photo's, and report cards have buried it over time but here it is..
He Is Just a Little Boy
By Chaplain Bob Fox
"The Old Bluebird"
He stands at the plate with
his heart pounding fast.
The bases are loaded, the
die has been cast.
Mom and Dad cannot help
him, he stands all alone.
A hit at this moment would
send the team home.
The ball meets the plate, he
swings and he misses.
There's a groan from the
crowd, with some boos and
some hisses.
A thoughtless voice cries,
"Strike out the bum."
Tears fill his eyes, the
game's no longer fun.
So, open your heart and
give him a break,
For it's moments like this, a
man you can make.
Please keep this in mind,
when you hear someone forget,
He is just a little boy, and
not a man yet.
"The Old Bluebird"
He stands at the plate with
his heart pounding fast.
The bases are loaded, the
die has been cast.
Mom and Dad cannot help
him, he stands all alone.
A hit at this moment would
send the team home.
The ball meets the plate, he
swings and he misses.
There's a groan from the
crowd, with some boos and
some hisses.
A thoughtless voice cries,
"Strike out the bum."
Tears fill his eyes, the
game's no longer fun.
So, open your heart and
give him a break,
For it's moments like this, a
man you can make.
Please keep this in mind,
when you hear someone forget,
He is just a little boy, and
not a man yet.
2 comments:
Crud, Rocky. I just put on make-up for the first time post-nose, and you're making me cry. All this insanity really does make me worry about what kind of MEN we are making. I guess we just do our Mom Thing, compose those post-game speeches (and even post-practice speeches over here) and continue to tell them how wonderful they really are.
argh. yep, i got the tears, too. sometimes i just want to get out there and play FOR them so they don't have to go through the gut-check.
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