Where have they gone: the Cobbs,
Mantles and Ruths?
They were the heroes of our youth.
As children we use to play on sandlot
stadiums; those carefree days.
We would strike that ball, and run
those bases, with cheers in our heads
and smiles on our faces.
Our evenings were filled with tall
tales and soda pop, as we hung out
by the barbershop.
The old men sat on boxes with their
favorite chew, and told us stories
about the Yankees and old sweet Lou.
Those days of childhood frivolity have
stalled, for we must face autumn's call.
by bluesbrown
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