Empty Bases
Empty Bases Gone is the crack of the bat The roar of the crowd The rounding of third Collisions at home The pause of the ump The dust in the air A fastball in the back Pine tar Stolen signs Pick-off plays Oh, how we long for… The good old days Gone is everything: From missed tags to rosin bags From outfield speed To sunflower seeds Everything from ticket fees To the suicide squeeze From screaming comebackers To ball flight trackers Missing is the bunt single Dropped in the perfect place The creaky-kneed catcher Taking one off the face Pitchers with blisters Home run hitters And 23 hoppers That find their way through An infield that shifted Or that little blooper Perfectly lifted Absent is the groundcrew Always raking, spraying And cleaning up chew Absent are the workers And all the fans that we knew Lemonade like Gramma made Hot dog man in mid-bark Cotton candy and churros Everything h