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Old Yeller (My Bat!)

Old Yeller!

Without Old Yeller my at bats would die,
Without Old Yeller I will cry,
This bat was my friend,
Till’ the very end.
It’s been with me through thick and thin,
And with me with every win.
Although my dad says it’s dead,
I will never put it to bed.
The pop is out,
But without Old Yeller I will shout!
I love this bat,
With every at bat.
The pop of this bat is gone,
But it’s not for long,
That I step up to the plate,
And Old Yeller is my only fate,
As it brings me success,
I can’t bare to tell the rest.
It will be in my heart,
As this new bat starts.
It has the will,
But has BIG shoes to fill.

(This poem is in memory of my old bat A.K.A Old Yeller Forever it will be in my heart)
No actually it is a -11.5 Easton Reflex 32 in. and 20.5 oz. Nothing fancy just my old faithful. Can't hit as well with high $$$$ bats as well as I do with this one. I played in the Firecracker Arvada Colorado tournament today and Old Yeller was still my bat of choice.

13 years old
May 7, 2008
There is nothing like

Having the feel of your fav bat in your hands.
Putting on you cleats.
Seeing the morning dew across the grass.
Smacking your glove with your fist.
Lowering the bill of your visor as you run out on the field.
Playing catch with your best friend on the team to loosen up.
Playing under the lights.
Tasting the dirt as you slide head first into 3rd.
Patting a teamate on the back after a great play.
Tossing the ball around the infield after an out.
Getting the game winning hit.
Making the game winning catch.
Throwing the game winning last pitch.
A close play at the plate.

The smell of softball in the morning.

Have fun this weekend.


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