Game Called (1948)
by Grantland Rice

Originally published in the New York Sun, August 17, 1948, this is Grantland Rice's elegy in memory of Babe Ruth, who died the previous evening, at the age of 53.

4539140Game Called1948Grantland Rice

GAME CALLED

Game called by darkness—let the curtain fall,
No more remembered thunder sweeps the field.
No more the ancient echoes hear the call
To one who wore so well both sword and shield.
The Big Guy's left us with the night to face,
And there is no one who can take his place.

Game called—and silence settles on the plain.
Where is the crash of ash against the sphere?
Where is the mighty music, the refrain
That once brought joy to every waiting ear?
The Big Guy's left us, lonely in the dark,
Forever waiting for the flaming spark.

Game called—what more is there for one to say?
How dull and drab the field looks to the eye.
For one who ruled it in a golden day
Has waved his cap to bid us all good-by.
The Big Guy's gone—by land or sky or foam
May the Great Umpire call him "safe at home."

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