Jr . . . Jr . . . what can I say?
I turned on the Home Run Derby
and once again you made my day.
I sat and I listened as they
tried to describe your swing,
it brought to mind a carousel
with the elusive golden ring.
There was fluid in your motion
like a supple lissome cat.
There was poetry, and music - -
and magic in your bat.
Heroism, drams and wonder
pervaded the field as
the Thoroughbred, the maestro,
his rhythmic dexterity revealed.
You make it seam so easy,
as you hit and run and steal . . .
then shyly smile, and blush a bit
and say "It isn't a big deal."
You take yourself for granted,
but with us, that's not the case.
We are honored to have witnessed
your amazing style and grace.
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