TheSeries

I drug up a chair
I pulled off my boots
I rested my feet by the fire
Twisted the cap
From a bottle of jack
And agreed with both feet
We was tired
The shadows all came out of hiddin
As the sun slid below the horizon
The stars all turned on
And they stay on till dawn
By then we'd be out again riddin

The air was crisp as a cracker
There wasn't hardly a breeze
The smoke rose up like a fountain
Straight down drifted cottonwood leaves
Clear as a bell
And cold as hell
Was probably the way I'd describe it
One by one to the fire
Each cowboy retired
And drug up his own chair beside it

Stories were told
Of the miles that we rode
Through the high country
Kickin up strays
We all shared a drink
And agreed we did think
The fall gather was the best of a buckaroo's days

But this story ain't just about cowboys
It's about a night I will always recall
When there by the flame
We tuned in the game
Heard the umpire cry out
Play ball!
And fifty five thousand screaming fans
All cheered the first swing of the bat
Along with five hired hands
Around the campfire
Up on Bodie Flat

The Twins and the Cards
Had tied up the series
This game would settle it all
And somehow through the struggle
The boys of summer
Had turned into the men of fall
And I discovered that night
A spark of boyhood delight
I learned that time can never erase
Those memories you have
Playing catch with you dad
Or the first time you made it on base
How a new baseball glove
Felt big as a shovel
Stiff as a frozen rope
And you pounded that pocket
fist after fist
Rubbed it with saddle soap
Till finally it fit
Like you best pair of sneakers
You wrote you name in the palm
Dreamed of the day
You would pitch the big game
Each time you put that glove on

Now to my way of thinkin
Nothin tastes better
Then dinner cooked out on the range
Beans and bread
A hot cup of coffee
And steak
Slowly cooked over sage
But as the play by play unfolded
I found myself just a might jealous
To be in those stands
With a root beer in hand
And a hot dog with mustard and relish

The roar of the crowd
The glare of the lights
The symmetry of the diamond
The calls balls and strikes
Marris and Mantle
Hammering Hank
Charlie Hustle
The Ryan express
Watching the Giants play in Candlestick Park
Close to heaven as a kid ever gets

And I was not alone in my thinkin
For I saw on those other guys faces
They too were carried away
To those innocent days and places
When you didn't have to pay for your fun
You hadn't yet learned to worry
Summer days were lazy streams
Didn't go anywhere in a hurry

Well right from the very beginning
We whooped it up
We cussed the umps
We didn't care much who was winning
At the end of the game
The final score
The Cards were at three
And the Twins had four
Then we drifted away in the darkness
Sorry
Not to be those little boys anymore

Ain't it funny how some things stick with ya
That night in perticular
Seems so vivid and clear
Though its a migratory memory
Arrives, lingers and leaves
Comes back again each year
And I remember lyin in my bedroll
Staring up into the dark
Thinking those aren't really shootings stars
Those are fastballs
God has hit out of the park