Out in the corner of centerfield
It’s not really a corner at all
A kid can run like the dickens fast
After a well hit ball
Where sometime a fielder’s the hero
And a villain at the very same time
Like a snapshot, an instant perspective
An alias dream or crime
Where else can you
Swing for the outfield fences
With a club they call a bat
Some fail to endure the dangerous curve
And they’re out for the count that’s, that!
The game’s a mammoth organ recital
Accompanied by grandstands of fans
Who wave away in more ways than one
Be it, good or bad, happy or sad
Reacting to every outcome
Li’l Abner never doubled this day
‘Cuz Sandy threw his Koufax way
King of dirty pulpit mound
Another incredible southpaw round
For the record books…Vin Scully would say…
Delivered on Cooperstown’s hallowed ground