America's pastime is the game we all love and play but we forget what has been through it all, the clay. As we relive our favorite pastime in our memmories and dreams the clay rests there on the diamond through every scene As we remember our children in little league play the sounds of children's chatter linger in the clay. As we cheer for favorite or underdog , Yankees or Red Sox the clay peers from warning track to batters box. As we see our base runners steal a base the clay is punished with a metal cleet to its face. As we enjoy the taste of cracker jacks and red hots the clay is just a feeding ground for litter that rotts. As we yell at our beloved players from the stands the clay is doused in saliva from an angry fan. So, as we watch the knights of armour take the field of play we must never forget the one thing that has been through the good and the bad, the clay.
Reason for writing:
I love baseball and appreciate the inner mental portion of the game.
Birth sign: Virgo
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