I.
The young recruit stood dreaming where the sultry sun was beaming,
With the perspiration streaming down his neck;
He had missed four easy chances, which aroused some angry glances,
And he saw his big league fancies were a wreck;
His work had been erratic, and he heard one mad fanatic
Yell in tones far from ecstatic: “Chase that cheese!”
Whereupon he drew a vision that was all to the Elysian,
And he spoke with much decision words like these:
Chorus.
“If I could run the bases like Bill Bryan,
If I only had Ted Roosevelt’s batting eye,
If I had the reach of Thomas Fortune Ryan,
I’d never let another chance get by;
If I only was as cool as Charley Fairbanks;
Or had control like Harriman has got,
I’d be the diamond daisy, and I’d set the bleachers crazy,
For I’d be the greatest player of the lot.”