Since the baseball season is now in full form without the help of the season of spring no doubt, I wanted to jump start the season by reciting an old hip hop poem by a friendly neighbor to the north, Buck 65. (There are beats to this poem, making it a song, but since I can't write the beats on paper, you will just have to use your imagination.)

a game worth winning, since the beginning of the first inning
an essential day-off since its provincial playoff
I'm playing shortstop, batting fourth in the lineup
the opposing pitcher's a right-hander with an unorthodox windup,
and a good move to first, throws a curve and changes speeds,
can be wild at times, and is known to blow the strangest leads
like the last time we faced him
he turned one savage lead into a loss for his team and inflated his earned run average
but today he seems focused, we were stuck out to dry
in the top of the first because he struck out the side.
In the bottom half the bad guys came out swinging,
a lot of coaches like to choose the same route, bringing
the big hitters to the plate, and players that are purely speed
to try and manufacture runs and jump out to an early lead.
This time it worked, so we were gonna need a hero
because after one complete the score's already three to zero.
Leading off the second I swung at the first pitch
no wonder
the center-fielder backpedaled to the warning track and settled under
O for 1 a can of corn, the ball is thrown around the horn
and back to the pitcher's mound
and all is going good for the bad guys, but not so hot for the visitors
the big right-hander is taking no prisoners.
He seems to have us figured out, the question is can we compete?
He's pitching perfect after three complete and has a three run lead.

Stay tuned for the next installments of the '93 provincial championship match.