The umpire called, “Play ball!”
The game had just begun.
The visitors took to the field
All briskly on the run.
Some fans clapped, some cheered loud,
The pitcher set to throw,
The batter took the batter's box,
The umpire bent down low.
“Strike one!” the umpire yelled,
Home fans the pitcher jeered
Who threw two more and struck him out,
The batter with the beard.
The ninth had seen no runs
Come ‘cross the plate that day,
The hometown team had two men out,
No run was on the way.
The coach called time and walked
Back to their dugout where
He pointed to Wee Willy Barnes,
“Let's go! You're batting here!”
Out strode Barnes, what a sight,
Just over three feet high.
And stood there in the batter's box
His power still belied.
The pitcher smirked and laughed,
His teammates did the same,
But, Willy Barnes just stood there set,
The p.a. called his name.
The crowd was hush. They'd seen
What Willy Barnes could do
For they had seen him hit before,
Though only three foot two.
The pitcher threw a strike,
A fastball without doubt,
But Willy did not flinch an inch-
He still was not yet out.
The umpire called “Strike one!”
The pitcher threw once more.
“Strike two!”The umpire screamed out loud -
Strike three was at the door.
The visitors still laughed,
Cheering their teammates all
As on the next pitch Willy swung,
Made contact with the ball.
Fans roared wild; pitcher turned
And just in time to see
The ball that Willy belted clear
The home run mark - the tree.
Thund'rous applause let loose
As Willy touched each base
And scored the only run that day -
A smile across his face.