Base-Ball Ballads/On Rooters' Row
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ON ROOTER'S ROW.
I.
We got a swell chance now to cop wid dat guy at de bat;
Why, say, dat hobo couldn't hit de ball yard wid his hat.
If he was in a steamboat and it blew up in a wreck,
He couldn't hit de water if he tumbled off de deck;
I've paid me month's rent four times since he stung one on de snout,
And what I'm sayin' to you is dat's slumpin' some, old scout.
Two runs to tie, de bases choked; we get 'em to de mat,
And den a piece of cheese like him comes wobblin' to de bat.
We got a swell chance now to cop wid dat guy at de bat;
Why, say, dat hobo couldn't hit de ball yard wid his hat.
If he was in a steamboat and it blew up in a wreck,
He couldn't hit de water if he tumbled off de deck;
I've paid me month's rent four times since he stung one on de snout,
And what I'm sayin' to you is dat's slumpin' some, old scout.
Two runs to tie, de bases choked; we get 'em to de mat,
And den a piece of cheese like him comes wobblin' to de bat.
Bing! on de nose—O wow! O wow! Beyond de fielder's mitt.
Say where's de bloomin' guy wot said dat lobster couldn't hit?
I guess he didn't get to dat last bender wid de wood,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you I knowed de hobo could?
Three runs across de bloomin' plate, and now de scrap's a cinch;
Dere never was a guy like him to clout one in a pinch;
Right on de nose across de lot, beyond de outfield's reach,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you dat lobster was a peach?
Say where's de bloomin' guy wot said dat lobster couldn't hit?
I guess he didn't get to dat last bender wid de wood,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you I knowed de hobo could?
Three runs across de bloomin' plate, and now de scrap's a cinch;
Dere never was a guy like him to clout one in a pinch;
Right on de nose across de lot, beyond de outfield's reach,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you dat lobster was a peach?
II.
Say, maybe dis ain't pie to-day wid Mickey on de hill;
Dey couldn't beat dat sucker if he handed 'em de pill;
He ain't lost one in fourteen weeks, and any time dey get
A base hit when he's workin' right just sue me for de debt.
You've got to hand it to him, Bo, and dat's no foolish tip,
He makes dose bloomin' batters look like chickens wid de pip;
I'll take me bonnet off to him—he's kept us in de race,
Fer minus him I'd bet me coat we'd be in seventh place.
Say, maybe dis ain't pie to-day wid Mickey on de hill;
Dey couldn't beat dat sucker if he handed 'em de pill;
He ain't lost one in fourteen weeks, and any time dey get
A base hit when he's workin' right just sue me for de debt.
You've got to hand it to him, Bo, and dat's no foolish tip,
He makes dose bloomin' batters look like chickens wid de pip;
I'll take me bonnet off to him—he's kept us in de race,
Fer minus him I'd bet me coat we'd be in seventh place.
Two doubles and a base on balls here in de openin' round?
I wonder why de manager leaves dat mutt on de mound?
Another hit, another pass! See here, you crazy lout,
Why don't you warm a pitcher up and take dat bonehead out?
Who said dat guy could pitch a ball? Dere goes another pass.
Dat mucker ain't got smoke enough to crack a pane of glass.
De minute he walked in de box I knowed we'd hit the ditch,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you dat hobo couldn't pitch?
I wonder why de manager leaves dat mutt on de mound?
Another hit, another pass! See here, you crazy lout,
Why don't you warm a pitcher up and take dat bonehead out?
Who said dat guy could pitch a ball? Dere goes another pass.
Dat mucker ain't got smoke enough to crack a pane of glass.
De minute he walked in de box I knowed we'd hit the ditch,
An' wasn't I just tellin' you dat hobo couldn't pitch?