“Slugger,” Friend, Aug. 2002, 27
Slugger
It is such a happy day When the fam’ly gets together (Children’s Songbook, page 199).
It was six o’clock on Friday
when she went up to bat.
Her muscles sure were mighty
as she straightened out her hat.
She dusted off home plate
and wiped a sweaty brow.
She swung a little late—
“Strike one” the call was now.
She squinted at the pitcher,
she popped her bubble gum,
she kicked dirt past the catcher,
and then she finally swung.
“Strike two,” the umpire shouted,
though two strikes for her are rare.
But the batter only pouted,
and she gave a deadly stare.
The third ball didn’t pass her
as she choked up on the bat.
Her tanned muscles made a ripple,
and then the ball went splat!
I heard the fans get louder
as the ball sailed out of sight.
I watched her round the bases
with a whoop of sheer delight.
Mom giggled; then she hugged me.
Dad ruffled up my hair.
My family sure went crazy
when that ball shot through the air.
I felt my cheeks get hot. I blushed—
I always feel like that.
I’m proud and yet embarrassed
when Grandma’s up at bat.