When you feel
The nervous confident sensation ready to flow
The sweat on the cotton glued to your skin
And the anticipation to jump at the next base
As the white powder dries on the leather,
You know
It's game time.

When you hear
The masked figure booming
And the aluminum ting as it hits the fresh, gold cork
As the fans cheer faintly in the splintered wooden stands
You know
It has begun.

When you smell
The earth beneath you
The hardwork on a player's skin
The freshly exposed leather mixed with the aroma of musty cleats
You know
It's time to shine.

When you taste
The ice cold electrolytes
Your effort on your lips
The gritty ground in your mouth
And the sky-slush when it rains
You know
It's a battle.

When you see
Supporters for the steal
Peers looking like competitors
Teammates mixed with anticipation and nervousness
An opponent snatching the hope of victory
And their eyes concentrating on their goal
You know
It's the seventh inning stretch.

When you feel
Your spirit let its guard down
Your emotions pouring out
Your body giving everything it has
You know
It's game time.