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

‘TWAS EVER THUS The pitcher knew the game from "A" to izzard He could wind the ball about the batters gizzard. He could hustle, he could stall; But— he couldn't hit the ball. The catcher was quite handy with his mitt, And on his haunches loved to sit; As a runner he could hardly crawl, And— he couldn't hit the ball. The short-stop, full of vim and sways, Could the fastest grounders trap. On the field he had the call, But—he couldn't hit the ball, So, every member of that team, On the field had loads of steam, But they never won at all Because—they couldn't hit the ball. The manager was non compis mentis, From looking for a good apprentice; The season closed; and in the fall, He found one who---could hit the ball  -—Rocky.