In the field where dreams align, Judd swings his bat, the game divine. Sixteen years, a youthful spark, Chasing fly balls till near dark. Yet by dawn's early gentle light, He tends the earth with all his might. A stud farmer's heart, steadfast and true, He raises champions from morning dew. Baseball and fields, his two great loves, Beneath the sun or stars above. Where seeds of effort always bloom, In Judd's two worlds, there’s endless room.