BLAZER AT THE BAT

By JJ Redick

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Horseville twelve that day,
The score stood three to two, with but one match left to play.

And then when Chip and Kat had all but crapped the bed,
A pall-like silence struck the Hacks assuming they were dead.

A straggling few got up to go drink a cold one in deep despair.

The rest clung to that hope as sparse as Kat Reeves’ hair.

They thought, "if only Blaze could but get a whack at that,

We'd put up even MORE money now, with Blaze up to bat."

But Flikeid preceded Couk, as did Dirt Callahan,

And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was not da man.

So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy did play,

For there seemed but little chance that Blaze could save the day.

But Kat pulled out a tie, to the wonderment of all.

And Jr Couk, sighting recent events, tore the cover off the ball.

And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,

There was Chipman’s losing round still looking like a terd.

Then from the throats of Hacks there rose a lusty yell.

It rumbled past the river, and it rattled in the dell.

It pounded up the 18th fairway, and some how held the green,

For Blaze, mighty Blaze, was up to save his team.

There was ease in Blaze's manner as he stepped up to the tee,
Truth be told, he had a few and he was desperate to pee.

And when, responding to the cheers, he forced a meager smile.

A grad of Mike Wynn’s school, he was sure to drive a mile.

Nineteen eyes were upon him as he posted his wooden peg.
One of Gigs’ eyes weren’t working as he’d consumed a keg.
The Hicks stared in disdain, their hands upon their hips,
But defiance flashed in Blaze's eye, a sneer curled Blaze's lip.

And now the dimpled sphere went hurtling through the air,

And Blaze stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Away from the sturdy golfer the ball unheeded sped --

"That’s headed for the Gazebo,” said Blaze. “Oh, s%@#, I think I’m dead.”

From the Hackers sick of losing, there went up a muffled roar,

Who put that Gazebo there, to the right a few feet more?

"Fly, fly, fly” shouted someone on the stand,

And it's likely they'd had heart attacks had not Blaze raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity, great Blaze's visage shone,

He’d crossed the creek towards the range many times his own.
He signaled Hacks to start moving, he knew where his orb flew,

But Hacks all chugged a brew not knowing what else to do.

"Klang" cried the wayward Pro-V as it struck the Gazebo roof.
And a scornful look hit Blaze realizing how he’d goofed.

It took one mighty bounce and went crashing to the woods,
And Blaze soon realized he could not deliver the goods.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright.

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.

And, somewhere Hacks are laughing, as they down a Guiness Stout,

But there is no joy in Horseville - mighty Blazer has struck out.

(Hokie Flikeid Phtos/AFP/AP/Getty/UPI/ESPN/FOX/C-SPAN Images)