• Author: Spider
• Editor: B-2331
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 2
• Page Number:
• Date: 5 21 1913
• Tags:
• poetry
• baseball
• warden

A WARDEN BRAVE On Thursday noon a game was played, The Warden mixed in rather late; But when he started in to play The boys their breath, he took away, He went into the pitchers box Looked all around, then fixed his sox. Then at his son, he gave a wink "I'll strike you out, or I'm a gink,"But Bill he whacked that ball so hard Poor papa sighed, and said you're smart, Then how the boys did rip and roar, "Put on more speed, or we'll get sore," But papa pitched them nice and slow And yet son John, he had no show, He'd strike them out one, two and three' He had their nerve, we all could see. The Dentist then came to the bat, But Oh, poor boy, he was too fat; The Warden simply pulled his teeth And both his gums for him did freeze, But just to think he had the nerve To stand out there and try to curve, When pitcher's old, they get a scare, Enough sometimes to raise their hair. Yes Warden, you have got the nerve But a baseball you can't curve. But come again you're full of fun And show us boys, how it is done, We'd rather have you play baseball Then jump around and yell and squeal; So come again and play a game And leave the umpire get the blame. — Spider