In case you didn't hear…
The Detroit Tigers swept the New York Yankees 4-0
In baseball's American League Championship Series,
Stopping their run to the World Series.
SWEPT. It's the worst way to lose.
It's not just that you lost, but that
You were never even a factor in the game.
The series is barely over before
The accusations start to fly.
Whose fault was it?
Who deserves the bulk of the blame?
Who should be made to pay
For this embarrassment?
As if you didn't feel bad enough already…
I think I know how they feel.
I've never played pro baseball
For a seven- or eight-figure salary and
I've never had the hopes of an entire city
Nestled on my shoulders.
But I've been SWEPT,
Blindsided by life
Just when I thought I had a chance
To win the game
Or cross the finish line first
Or snag the prize.
There it was, just beyond reach,
Suddenly jerked away
Without so much as a "sorry, mate"
To ease my disappointment.
Brooms have no feelings.
They sweep us away like
Dust bunnies under the bed
And return to the broom closet,
No worse for wear and
Feeling no guilt for destroying our dreams.
Sometimes the last straw
Comes from a broom.
But I take comfort in this thought:
No matter how many brooms there are
Or how often they make a sweep,
There are always more dust bunnies
Under the bed.
I am a dust bunny.
Sweep me away at your own risk;
I'll just be back tomorrow...