I pull out my pen and start to scrawl,
And witty lines I intersperse
With tales of Seattle and Montreal;
Of loser's tears and winner's purse;
The cheer of fans, the umpire's call;
The rebound, the bunt, the double reverse.
I could go on, and tell it all--
But if to poetry you are averse
And in case my ode does not enthrall--
I'll stop before it gets much worse.