(Ed. note: The following poem was discovered by Manhasset parents when the eight-year-old baseball team played in Brooklyn. They were moved by its sentiment and passed it on to us.)

He stands at the plate with his heart pounding fast.

The bases are loaded; the die has been cast.

Mom and Dad cannot help him; he stands alone.

A hit at this moment would send the teams home.

The ball nears the plate, he swings and he misses.

There's a groan from the crowd

With some boos and some hisses.

A thoughtless voice cries, "Strike out the bum!"

Tears fill his eyes; the game is no longer fun.

Remember, he's just a little boy who stands all-alone.

So open your heart and give him a break,

for it's moments like this a man you can make.

Keep this in mind when you hear someone forget,

He's just a little boy and not a man yet...