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Ode to New York StickballEach unique New York season offers wonders for all Jack Frost color leaves like magic in the fall Wintertime boasts snowmen six feet tall But in Summer, nothing beats a game of New York Stickball There’s a thrill in gripping a thickly taped stickball bat Holding a red “Penzi Pinky” is enough to enthrall We all troop over to the vacant parking lot With its tall, un-obstructed smooth, concrete wall It’s a fun summer’s game for kids to enjoy We could participate, not just to observe There’s nothing a hypnotic as those balmy summer days Throwing a sharp breaking strike, with a curve We’d start pitching at the bare crack of dawn Only when the sun goes down, finally, did we cease “Don’t hit the ball on Old Schlagel’s front lawn” He has threatened to call the police The A&P straight ahead is the home run line boundary It is a triple if your ball hits the grass Don’t hit a line drive at Mrs. Flansbaum’s porch window Twice last month, unfortunately, we had to replace the glass We’ll pick the Yankees and you will be the Dodgers I’m Sandy Koufax pitching against crafty Whitey Ford If not for hitting that moving “Daily News” truck The man on second, for sure, would have scored A run behind and it’s the bottom of the ninth Sandy Koufax is out on the mound and just there grinning My mother down the block starts calling, “It’s suppertime” “Common please Mom, please let me play this last inning” Mantle is up and the game is now tied Over the wall I connect with a blast That is the sixth “Penzi” we have lost today And I think it is also our last New York Stickball days are now far behind A game that today’s youth now shuns Most teens have Rap Music on their minds And my game’s become the study of Mutual Funds Send this Whackocard to your friends! |