As I step to the plate,
With nothing to spare,
I take a few moments,
I breathe in fresh air.
I look at the body,
Forty feet from me,

I am not intimidated,
But excited to see,
The look on his face
When he throws pitch three.
I'll hit a homerun,
You just wait and see.

I can sense the fear,
He treats me with,
His eyes trembling,
Like throwing at Brandon Smith.

The pitch comes in,
Speeding like a gun,
I swing the bat,
There is strike one.
I feel heartbroken
Not knowing if I was done.












I began to wonder,
As to if I had won.

The boy sends down one more,
I swing my cut down tree.
Again, feeling let down,
I try to clear all negative thoughts,
As I could not hit it out of town.

I cannot help but worry,
If I will strike out on pitch three.












He threw the pitch down,
I close my eyes and throw my arms,
Not thinking about anything else,

But I feel a solid buzz,
Through my cut down tree.
I open my eyes to see that a line drive,
Would bring in an astonishing three.
I had won the game for the whole team.