Billy the Kid

Billy was twelve when we met on the field,
determined to discount a past he concealed.
His third straight year on a nine-year-old team,
they allowed him to play because that was his dream.

The other kids teased him for being so small,
but, it’s not always height that makes someone tall.
He bounced on the grass with a confident strut.
Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.

“Hey rookie!” he shouted, and began to approach.
“I’m Billy the Kid, your assistant coach.”
With hat turned around and eyes focused in,
“If you'll listen to me, I’ll teach you to win.

We still need a shortstop, if you’ve got the game.
I guess we’ll find out. Have you got a name?”
“Rookie will do” I smartly replied.
“I’ll play what position the coaches decide.”

He gave me a smile, then proceeded to say,
“I’m getting called up to the majors someday.”
It was just about then he got hit on the head,
a ball that, oh, “must have curved”, so he said.

He jumped to his feet. I was laughing inside.
His love of the game could not be denied.
A friendship developed from unlikely souls.
Our differences great, but we shared the same goals.

Together we dreamed and worked on our game.
His effort relentless, and always the same.
I’ve never seen anyone work quite so much.
His mind disbelieving any physical crutch.

A positive outlook and fresh point of view,
he actually believed his dream would come true.
“It’s a matter of heart” he often would say.
He taught me to fight, I taught him to play.

He’d speak of the day that we’d answer the call.
“Imagine” he’d whisper, “Major league ball.”
On the crest of our hopes, Billy became sick.
His overworked heart was going down quick.

Tears filled my eyes as I raced to his side.
Consoling me, Billy said, "What a great ride!”
“Imagine” he whispered, “I'm getting the nod,
lead-off hitter for God’s All-Star squad.”

I said, “You deserve all the blessings you’ll get.
Just watch out for curves, and try not to get hit.”
With eyes focused in, he said, "It's the end.
Thank you for being my very best friend.

I just have to tell you, before I must leave,
my dream will live on in what you achieve.
You’ve got the talent, I know what’s inside.
Don’t ever give up” he said as he died.

He gave me the dream he cherished the most.
The only thing left for which he could boast.
Now standing on deck, my first big league shot.
If Billy could see this …, my wishful thought.

“Hey rookie!” I heard, “Check out the board.”
A message that Billy took time to record.
“Congratulations” he said, “On your rookie debut.
I’ve taught you to win, it's now up to you."

I homered that night, the first ball they pitched;
for battles he fought, for lives he enriched.
I'm humbled by what all the sportswriters did,
they changed my name, William, to “Billy the Kid.”