Tuesday, April 29, 2014

ANSWER: Poems

5,000

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

Matt: --
Record: 643-540

No comments: