I went to a ball game I wanted to see,
It wasn’t on radio and not on TV;
I’d waited all year to see this one game,
I could hear it on replays but that’s not the same.

When I got to the field house I hurried right in
I had plenty of time to see it begin.
I went through the gate and gave them my ticket,
I bought me a cone and had started to lick it;

When out of the stands came a voice that was loud,
I heard it above the din of the crowd.
“Hey Jack”, yelled this man, now who would it be,
With so many people just who could know me?

“Hey Jack”, he yelled then and caused me to drop,
My scoop of ice-cream right off of the top.
How could anyone be so crass and so rude,
I wouldn’t respond I was not in the mood.

I sat in my seat and pulled down my cap,
He yelled, “Jack”, so loud I spilled coke in my lap!
Now people were looking and giggling at me,
I wanted to yell, “Go away let me be!”

“Hey Jack”, came again just as the game started,
How could this clown be so mean and hard-hearted?
“A fly ball,” people shouted was heading my way,
I’d catch it for sure it would just make my day!

And just as I had the ball in my reach,
“Hey Jack!”, came the voice that now was a screech.
The guy on my right snatched it out of the air,
It just wasn’t right, it just wasn’t fair!

Why not just ignore him I’ll just watch the game,
But I couldn’t do it, my mind was aflame.
If I could just find him I’d make this guy pay
For stealing my pleasure and ruining my day!

All thoughts of the game from my mind had departed,
Not a play had I watched from the time that it started.
Why couldn’t I see him when I turned around,
Why didn’t he wave and jump up and down?

I didn’t care now be he peasant or pope,
I had nothing but hate in my heart for this dope!
With stealth as my partner I’d find who he was,
With punishment sweet my mind was a-buzz!

I was no more a Christian and no more a saint,
Get my hands on his neck and I’d make him an ain’t.
On my hands and my knees, so he couldn’t see,
I’d sneak up on him before he saw me.

Again he yelled, “Jack, hey Jack”, and right then
I saw who it was who had raised such a din.
Why did he continue to shout in the air,
Couldn’t he see I no longer was there?

I shouldered my way knocking people aside,
I’d get this guy now no where he could hide.
I ran up and kicked him low down on his back
At last I could tell him, “MY NAME IS NOT JACK!”

Before I wrote this poem, I was looking at a Dr. Seuss book and wondering if I could do something in his style of writing. One of my grandchildren had recently heard me make a remark to someone else and had taken it as being directed toward him, so that became the topic of the poem. Aren’t we all like that to a certain extent? If two people are whispering, we tend to think it’s probably about us.

In Hey Jack the poor guy has his whole day ruined, because in his little world everything is about him. We can probably all see a little bit of Jack in ourselves.