They come to play, these men of the field,

 All dressed the same for this game they don't fear.

 Nine men with a number and a name on their back,

 The goal Is to defend and conquer this enemy who
 Will attack.

 A crowd will gather In support of these warriors' 
 Well trained,

 They'll cheer till the end, this battle of power 
 Tat has its own name.

 One by one each stands' at the plate,

 As one lone attacker throws' his weapon their way.

 With a bat In his hands' he defends' his ground,

 A crack that echoes can be heard If he strikes back

 At him what was thrown from the mound.

 They dive and they jump to stop what's sent their way,

 To hold back the attack of nine men here today.

 These boys' of Summer who fight to become

 Champions' of the game, to be remembered for 
 What they have done.

          Keith Garrett

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