Lord, I thank you for another at-bat, Before I lay down my head. Perhaps tomorrow won't be a strike-out. Maybe a single or double instead. I'm down in the very bottom of the seventh, And batting way below .318 I still keep swinging best as I can, Though a home-run I doubt will be seen. But I still have a bit of life to go Before this whole game is through. I still hope to go on the road to Chi-town And see Wrigley a time or two. So Lord, please hear my baseball prayer, Before I go to sleep 'neath the loam. Let me hear the crack of ball and bat And arrive, at the end, safe at home. What you get when a homesick Chicagoan is watching Ken Burns' baseball documentary.π
A Windy City boy, lost in rural Ohio, just shooting the breeze.
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Never been much of a baseball fan, but I was born a North-Sider. In Chicago, when you’re born, you are assigned a team, like it or not, and you MUST support that side against those heathen cretins from the other side. And since Star Trek was often delayed in syndication by Cubs games, well ….. π