All teams know comebacks. Some know comebacks well.
Those that know them best know it's hard to tell
What kind of comeback any game is till
Its series ends, as every series will.

Because not every comeback is the same,
A miracle game is merely one day's
Compilation of improbable plays.
Some games stand alone, set against defeat
Where bitter and sweet connect and produce
Forgotten innings, just there to reduce
To the final moments-a mob, a scream
And a star-crossed team, a desperate wave
Halfway between. The walk-off heroes stave
Elimination off a game or four.
Their feats make us roar, but make us forget
The championship's not decided yet.
Of course, sometimes reality's unreal.
The rallies that feel too strange to be true
Take place game by game. Not often. They do
Just enough, however. We don't discount
Even an amount of games that seems high.
Not when old records so frequently fly
Out of the park. Not with this team. To see
What one game will be, a week down the line,
Isn't a skill I think of as mine.
So of game five, I had nothing to say.
Not until today. But in game six, though,
I made my prediction how it would all go.