By Steve Hofstetter
When things go wrong as they sometimes do,
And your average drops to a buck-eighty-two,
When you want to swing, but instead you slump,
And youâ€™re the one yelling kill the ump
And youâ€™re up five times but you still donâ€™t hit,
Rest if you must, but donâ€™t you quit.
A streak is a slump without the outs,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And despite your readiness to fail,
Comes a seeing-eye grounder or a dying quail,
Just know that you will get that hit
Itâ€™s when youâ€™re o-for you mustnâ€™t quit.