For Love of the Game

The dirt, the grass, the bats, balls and my glove,
The crowd, the cheers, it's the game that I love.
I stand on the rubber on top a mound of dirt,
The number 25 on the back of my shirt.
I listen to my fans let out their cheers,
So I give them my all, my blood, sweat and tears.
I reach back and throw with everything inside me,
The batter swings and he misses, the umpire yells strike three.

Now I'm in the batter's box trying to read the pitchers face,
I'm telling myself if it's a bad pitch don't chase.
Suddenly it's a full count with 2 strikes and 3 balls,
I drown out the screams, as quietness falls.
The next pitch I bet will be a fastball down the middle,
I can't let this pitcher fool me not even a little.
I guess the pitch right, I squeeze the bat with both hands,
I swing with all of my might, the ball lands in the stands.

We won the big game because of that homerun I blasted,
My baseball career was definatly fun while it lasted.
I can still hear the cheers from all of my fans,
I still love the way a ball and bat feel in my hands.
I didn't play for fortune or fame,
I played simply, for love of the game.