The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Redbird nine that day
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
With the season on the line, the manager makes the call
Lidge trots out from the pen, and confidently takes the ball.

His fastball clocks at a hundred, his slider can't be hit
And Redbird fans do cry and swoon, as his warm ups hit the mitt.
The Stroville faithful dance and scream, as one they raise their cheer
Their closer need but three outs, for this to be their year.

The first two batters took their cuts, but Lidge just mowed them down
And the building rocked and strangers kissed, in anticipation of the crown.
But one more out was needed, and the top of the order now due
As Eckstein walked up to bat, the fevered pitch just grew and grew.

Lidge pounded Eckstein with two strikes, he had his good control.
Then out of nowhere something happened; Ecky swung and found a hole.
He took second without a play; all that mattered was at the dish
"One more out" the fans cried out, only this their prayer and wish.

Jimmy Edmonds now dug in deep, his jaw was clinched and tight
And an edge crept into the stands; for they sensed they had a fight.
But Lidge glared in and took the sign, his stuff was such a lock
His pitches flew till the count went full; Jimmy finally coaxed a walk.

Eighty thousand eyes looked on deck, and there saw a famous number
For Pujols, mighty Pujols, stood there ready with his lumber.
He strode easily to the plate, and clenched his mighty fist
The first pitch flew and broke away; Mighty Pujols swung and missed.

And now Lidge gets the sign and now he winds and lets it go
Oh how the cheers are shattered, by the force of Pujols blow.
The silence becomes deafening, the air is all let out
For there is no joy in Stroville, the Mighty Pujols hit it out!

Copyright 2005, Dennis Denby.

Found the original poem here at Paul Harris' website.