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Everyday when his dad came home he was waiting there
This was the special time that his dad always had to share

He taught him to throw and to catch how to swing his bat
Every game he played front row is where his dad was at

Started off with tee ball and even then he was a superstar
Not one of the older kids could hit the ball near as far

Then he moved up to softball and what was clear to see
The boy had a natural gift as natural as a gift could be

When he made it to hardball believe these words are true
Matt was one of the best pitchers the world ever knew

Through school and into Collage there never was any doubt
Their best player step up to the plate, Matt would fan them out

Sometimes in life just when we start thinking everything is great
Whether or not we deserve what happens we meet a divesting fate

Matt was out on a Friday night after pitching a picture perfect game
With the stands full of pro scouts promising him a career and life of fame

His fastball clocked at 98 and his control was pinpoint on the spot
After every game he would hug his dad and tell him “Dad thanks a lot”

A drunk driver ran a red light and ended Matt’s career that night
Being left a Paraplegic as it turns out would be Matt’s final plight

A lesser man would have been angry he would wallow in his hate
But that path was not for Matt he just stepped right up to the plate

Became one of the worlds greatest sit down skiers, the first to do a flip
Matt didn’t just come back swinging he was swinging from the hips

You see Matt’s dad didn’t just play with him he taught him the game
He taught him how to fully believe in himself, the W by his name

What Matt learned from Baseball he taught to you know who
Long as you believe in and assert yourself, nothing you can’t do



Written in honor of Matt Oberholtz
who I was fortunate enough to meet
because my friend Nick Jenkins was
his roommate. Want to talk about a
cool guy ice cycles shot out the back
of his water ski. Oddly enough I wrote
Matt's poem for Matt's contest.
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