<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419961" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Catfish Hunter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hard rubber plate there in the dust<br>and just beyond, a mound.<br>With difficulty Catfish turned<br>and paced the muddy ground.<br>Even with the walker<br>these few steps were hard indeed.<br>Shoulders weak, steps faltering<br>from Lou Gehrig’s sad disease.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blue sky stretched above him<br>so infinite and vast.<br>With difficulty Catfish reached<br>back, deep into his past.<br>He did not think of trophies<br>or recall his perfect game.<br>Not at all about the millions<br>he once got to sign his name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was pitching for the Yankees<br>against men in Dodger Blue.<br>The World Series game on the line<br>some whispered he was through<br>His mind recalled each move he’d made<br>Each strikeout pitch he threw.<br>In Memory the fastball’s song<br>still sang out loud and true.<br>Like an old dog fast asleep<br>might dream that He’s still young.<br>Catfish thought about the night<br>His last Series ring was won</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Soon, too soon, he’d be relieved<br>of ball, of life, of game<br>He’ be a plaque upon the wall<br>down at the hall of fame.<br>A few more weeks<br>and he’d be gone-<br>a casualty, nothing more.<br>The object now of whispered prayers, <br>This man fans once adored.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419961" data-title="Catfish Hunter de John F. McCullagh" data-description="Hard rubber plate there in the dust and just beyond, a mound. With difficulty Catfish turned and paced the muddy ground. Even with the walker these few steps were hard indeed. Shoulders weak, steps faltering from Lou Gehrig’s sad disease. The b..."></div> </div> </div>

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