Closer

+285

Bright lights, loud fans,
Competition at its best.
Ninth inning when the pressure’s on,
That’s when I’m better than the rest.
Unlimited anticipation for the previous eight,
Praying that I get my chance to dominate.
Thoughts of the greats pass through my head,
From Mariano to Eckersley to Gossage,
With many left unsaid.
There’s no greater pressure in sports than being a closer,
But I live for it.
Motivation, domination, and devastation, it’s all part of the job,
But when you’re a closer, you have minimal time to sob.
Constant ups and downs,
Striving to be the greatest.
Numerous teammates counting on you,
To not let the lead come within two.
Strike three! Screams the umpire,
Signaling success, and yet another win.
There’s no greater pressure in sports than being a closer,
But I live for it.

This poem was written/submitted by Matthew Metcalf.

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