"Baseballese" A descriptive poem By Chris Peterson 12/4/00 I sill see it Like a movie playing In my head I can feel it Smell it Hear it The thrill of comeback We were down 5-2 Embodiments of defeat Suddenly! a beacon Of hope and pride Burst through the dungeons of despair A giant in the midst of battle Strolling to the plate Of truth Of hope, persistence The last spark Like that of a dying fire Like that of the end of sunset He refused to die With a mighty swing And inhuman doggedness He drove the ball High! high as A plane It seemed The world stopped The waft of beef Mustard, soda 31 thousand crammed people Watched Then! as if from An invisible Squadron of jets Roaring! roaring ! noise! The ball, standing out In the velvet Of night Ricocheted, eluding Fielders; screaming "You can't catch me!" Surge of joy. Happiness! The triumphant Home team Romping, joyful. Pile at home Joy unmatched Players and coaches, as one The defeated in despair Winning slipped through Fumbling grasp As if coated with butter. But for Boston, Home team Rejoice! yelling ! "We won! Victory!" Happiness, Joy, sadness But feeling, emotion That is why we play.

"Baseballese"

Well, I also had to write a descriptive poem about something I loved, so I wrote this. This is a true story about the game I went to with my godmother on August 18th, 1999. Redsox-Athletics.