Mac stepped to the plate
With his bat at the ready,
And frowned at the pitcher
With a glare that was steady.

The pitcher wound up
And delivered the ball,
"Stee-rike one"
Was the umpires call.

Mac took his bat
And pounded the plate,
Turned and looked at the umpire
With a look of pure hate.

The second pitch he watched
A fast ball go by,
"Stee-rike two" 
Was the umpires cry.

Mac did a pirouette swing
At the next pitch thrown,
But missed by a mile
How the fans did moan.

With a smile on his face
"Steee-rike three" the umpire said,
Mac threw his bat in the dirt
He was seeing red.

The umpire pointed at the club house
Saying "I know you have fame,
But pick up your bat
You're out of the game."

Mac picked up his bat
And threw it as hard as he could,
When it hit the wall
It shattered the wood.

The umpire then said
"Mac I'll reverse my position,
You can stay in the game
Using that bat, that's my decision."

The next time up
He had a sliver for a bat,
Impossible to get a hit
With a bat like that.

Mac tried to get a hit
But the umpire had his number,
What Mac really needed
Was some big bat lumber.

The umpire taught Mack a lesson
He's thrown no more fits,
After all his paycheck
Is based on his hits.

10/29/2008

Posted on 10/30/2008
Copyright © 2024 Charles E Minshall