It’s game day,
The last softball game of my high school career.
Taking one last glance at the field,
Nothing has changed over 4 years.
The same old beaten up scoreboard,
Standing tall over the high fence that I’ve hit my share of balls over.
The outfield with that large indent in center field I always hated
Will continue to be there when I leave.
My four years were spent in the infield,
I know it like the back of my hand.
The dried groves in the dirt made it harder to field a ball,
But they taught me how to react better on defense.
The place that I truly loved,
Was the most important place on the field; home plate.
What seemed to be two ditches were only the batter’s boxes,
Where everybody had their own chance to do something big for their team.
Home plate was covered with scratch marks
From the player’s cleats that reached home plate to score.
I thought I would never miss a field of rock solid dirt,
I even happened to take a piece of the field with me when I left.