Tigers at the 'Blatt
ping!baseball

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the LSU nine that day;
The team had lost the night before, forcing a decisive game to play.
The Tigers scored four quick runs, then Texas did the same,
The Longhorn rally nearly silenced the gold clan fans who came to see the game.

Yet few left their seats in despair. They had faith the best
Was still to come from those with “Tigers” across their chest;
They chanted, “Geaux Tigers!”. The loyal fans knew that
Their beloved team would soon prevail, their mascot an oversized cat.

Up stepped Mitchell, soon after Gibbs the catcher,
Micah was an All American, Jared also dodged line backers.
Mahtook hugged third base, then scored off Helenihi’s bat,
Texas changed pitchers to stop the bleeding, but it would take more than that.

Schimpf took one for the team, beaned by the ball,
He would cross the plate soon after, when Ochinko answered the call;
And when the inning was over, and the fans saw what occurred,
The Tigers had jumped to a substantial lead, five men had rounded third.

“Hook ‘em Horns! We’ll get them back!” Fan in burnt orange would yell;
A resounding “L-S-U” call answered them back, hollered by Buzzy Haydel.
The clubhouse leader energized his team, not always with has bat,
A vocal leader in the dugout, he was a one man rally hat.

The Tigers had been there before, last year settling for fifth place;
This would not be the result this time, a smile beamed from Mainieri’s face.
His team would prevail and storm the mound at Rosenblatt,
It wouldn’t matter who the team from Texas trotted up to bat.

Jones came in to pitch, a lefty who knows how to deliver the hurt.
He pitched effortlessly and struck out two, smooth as pecan pie dessert.
Then the senior Coleman emerged, Louis, he throws with zip,
He returned to mound one last time, his final Tiger road trip.

The scoreboard showed bottom of nine, three outs left in the affair.
Gibb’s mitt would crack as fastballs ripped through the air.
The first two outs were backwards K’s, Coleman put them straight to bed.
One more out remaining before the Cajuns painted Omaha red.

Not a fan nor player were sitting, the Tigers began to roar,
“One more out is all we need”, Mainieri would implore.
“Geaux Tigers! Geaux Tigers!” the purple and gold would once again demand;
Coleman fired a strike across the plate, the umpire pointed his hand.

Relaxed on mound was Coleman, as if the hill was his home;
He prepared another pitch, and again it found the zone;
The batter flailed aimlessly as if he didn’t know what to do;
The offering had him baffled, bellowed the umpire, “Strike two!”

The old stadium rumbled as fans would yell and applaud,
Some men missed the second call, instead admiring Erin Andrew’s bod;
The final pitch was signaled to Coleman, adrenaline in his vein,
Sixty feet six inches and the Tigers would be champs again.

Horsehide came spiraling, the offering was headed to the plate;
The batter tried with all his might, but failed like Jon and Kate.
The Tigers were tops once again; a win novel like Thoreau,
Players poured from the dugout to the field, tears filled the front row.

Oh, the sun will rise in Austin once again, despite what happened this night,
In Baton Rouge the party’s just getting started, students hanging from street lights;
On the field at Rosenblatt players celebrate, pump fist in the air and shout,
There is joy again at LSU - the Bayou Bengals have won out.