Absolutely the last word on baseball till next spring

November 01, 1996|By Robert E. Wolfe

I ain't too big on baseball, Joe,

but I seen some on TV,

So I thought I'd go down to the


To see what I could see.

I joined the folks high in the


It was a mighty throng,

Of every size and shape and hue,

Some fifty thousand strong.

Some of them blocked up the


And some was guzzling beer,

While others shouted epithets

That dang near broke my ear.

And down below a rag-tag few,

O'ercome with sportive zeal,

Was casting batteries and stuff

Out on the playing field.


But most sat quietly enough

And cheered that sturdy crew,

A-doin' things with bats and balls

That none of us can do.

And what a handsome lot they


(You'd hear the ladies gush),

But then they done such awful


That'd make the ladies blush.

Now, an unwrit rule in baseball is:

Be comfy in your britches.

So they adjust theirselves at will,

And scratch where'er it itches.

And oh! the mound and dugouts,

They must be awful tacky,

'Cause every time I chanced to


They was spittin' chaw tobacky.

And then one time the whole dang


Piled out from off the benches

To do harm to the pitcher

Who was missin' them by inches.

I tell you, Joe, I never thought

That baseball'd be so couthless,

Although we know for many years

That it has been, uh, Ruth-less.

Well, the season slowly came and went,

But it always was the same;

That brawlin', scratchin', spittin'


Showed up in every game.

I guess I'll watch some more next


And maybe root some for' em,

But only when I see that all

Are models of decorum.

Pub Date: 11/01/96

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