A Duke on every base
A 3-nothing deficit stared the batter in the face.
The pitcher, clad in orange and black showed menace in his eyes
His job? To save this final game and claim the season’s prize.
The starter had been strong, through more than eight, no hits did show
In the heat his arm ran out of gas and walked three in a row
So, this fireman was called upon to quench the final spark
Leaving the Duke faithful to stagger in the dark.
When the team was at its weakest, it seemed he became most strong.
Concerning ways to win a game, it seemed he’d done it all
Home runs, stolen bases, and a walk-off base on balls.
He carried them to wins at least a time or three each week.
And while he was a hero, his demeanor remained meek.
As he approached the plate this trip, some fans began to doubt.
He got into the box, his wood was his team’s final chance
The pitcher toed the rubber with his scowling menace glance.
The swing was no where even close, more fans felt their hearts sink.
The 0 and 1, no different, soon exploded in the mitt
The swing did not come closer than a half-a-mile of it.
Was his bat to betray him?
It had been his closest friend.
The home crowd had turned silent, some of them just turned away
They couldn’t bear to see the season ended in this way.
So while some eyes averted, strike three hurtled to the plate
The grimace of the swinger was profound, for he was late.
A cry went up in anguish from the bleachers all around
Yet that sign of resignation muffled out another sound
It may have been the heat and playing in the summer sun
It may have been a miracle,
That’s still what some folks say
The details of the story are debated e’en today
And the catcher’s mitt was rent in two like a worn out old flip-flop.
The final strikeout victim was already at first base.
There he called out to his teammate who was standing still, quite stunned
“Come on, I’ll take you home! Come on, now with me run!”
With the catcher halfway to the ball, they were heading for base three.
When the Third Base runner realized that he was not alone.
So the four Dukes, they sped quickly, “To the plate! On to the plate!”
They churned their legs and hoped that they would not get home too late.
And stood back up and cheered and felt their hope come back again.
The pitcher? Shocked beyond belief, simply put, he wasn’t there.
He seemed stuck on the pitcher’s mound, anchored by some heavy weight.
And he only fell down on his knees as the fourth man crossed the plate.
Then the Gold Sombrero wearer was raised up by all his team
The scoreboard told the story, brightly shining, all could see
From the clutches of defeat, the Dukes had claimed a win 4-3.
The strikeout was discussed at length throughout the varied land
Recounting where they’d been
When the four men hurried to the plate
Securing the great win
To have a season end that way, is just a travesty.”
The fans behind the losers were outraged, appalled, and more
A few signed a petition to protest the final score
And some folks thought of baseball and the Dukes for the first time
Its work complete, no doubt
For it’s told of the dayThe mighty strikeout king struck out.