It was the bottom of the very last inning,
But the visiting team was winning.
The score was 4-2,
The crowd was blue,
For they were sure to lose.

Some people drove home in their car,
For their hopes of the home team winning were far.
The remaining spectators watched in hope,
While others left because they couldn't cope.

Matt Flynn was the home team’s star,
But his turn at bat was pretty far.
First was Bob, then was John, then was Blake,
Who was the bomb. 4th was Joe, and 5th was Tom.
Finally, there was Matt, who waited hopefully to get a chance at bat.

Bob struck out, John did the same;
Blake’s double wasn't lame.
Joe hit a single, Blake didn't go,
For he was afraid he might go slow.

Tom hit a single,
The bases were filled.
If Matt struck out,
He knew he’d be killed.

The end of the game was very near;
Matt shook and quivered in fear.

Matt was scared, he wasn't calm;
Beads of sweat dripped down his palm.

Matt thought the first pitch was a ball;
He let it go by and listened for the call.
“Strike one!” yelled the umpire.
Matt didn't argue nor shout,
For he didn't want to get thrown out.

Matt saw the perfect pitch.
He took a very hard swing and missed.
He stomped down hard and shouted in rage,
But he knew he needed to make a change.

He loosened up and calmed down;
He needed to do this for the sake of his town.
His visage changed from angry to calm;
No longer was sweat dripping down his palm.

Matt watch as the pitcher let the ball wing;
And he let out his most powerful swing.
The crowd saw the swing and heard the crack, and they watched the ball fly off

his bat.
The ball soared, the crowd roared, and they watched as Matt ran the bases and

scored.