That Great Heroic Blow

The poor are growing poorer and the rich have all they need,
Except they never have enough, and we've decided greed
Is good again, while families wonder how they'll pay the rent...
And now they say homeruns are down some eight point eight percent.The nation's split in factions as it's never been before
Between those outraged at and those cranked up to back the war...
The price of gas runs higher, global warming's such a threat
Ohio may soon have a coast. So I should worry, yet...
That seems a minor problem when I see the news and hear
That homers have dropped off almost a full nine points this year.What's caused this hapless falling off? And what's behind the drought?
How come the hitters, once productive, now are striking out?
Or grounding out? or lining out? or walking, getting hit --
Is pitching so much better? Do the batters lack the wit
To know a fastball from a curve or from a change of pace?
Or is it lack of steroids that explains the loss of grace
That hitters are displaying as they stride up to the plate
And fall short of last year's homeruns by fully eight point eight?It's only May, I know, so there may be a chance, I guess,
That this embarrassment won't last, this puny, worthless mess Will right itself, somehow, and in the summer's blazing heat
The balls will fly from parks again. The lads at bat will treat
The fans to line drives to the seats, majestic dingers, too,
And all across the nation, in the roar that will ensue,
The rising of the waters and the waging of the war,
And all the other man-made problems heaven never sent
Will vanish if we can make up that eight-point-eight percent. Our hope is with you, baseball, and combined with hope our need.
The great, heroic blow, the monstrous shot alone can feed
Our hunger for a symbol as our spirit, badly bent,
Craves homers to make up that lacking eight-point-eight percent.