On sandlots every Spring, Summer and Fall,
It caught many a ball.
I still love
My Bobby Murcer Glove.
Though my bats are in heaven above,
I still have that childhood glove.
Had I known of Shigeaki Aso,
My glove of dreams could have taken me pro.
Aso is Wilson’s “Ball Glove Master Craftsman;”
With his tender care, my mitt might still see the sun.
Instead, that old slab of leather
Waits for its season of dreamy weather.
When my granddaughters play softball,
My glove will be there, Spring, Summer and Fall.