You talk of “inside” baseball and of managerial plans,
Of signs and mental flashes that are Greek to all the fans;
You tell of wondrous brainwork, such as Evers used to use
When he wasn’t in his shoe store, selling patent leather shoes.
I’ve seen some “inside” baseball in the various big league towns,
And seen some “inside” pitching by the Mathewsons and Browns,
But the finest “inside” baseball I have seen in many a day
Is inside the dear old prison, where they like to have me stay.
The Yeggmen lead the league just now—that team is full of tricks;
They beat the Con Men yesterday by seventeen to six.
The Lifers have an outside chance to win the prison flag;
The Counterfeiters still have hopes, although they seldom brag.
The pitcher for the Grafters, namely, Alderman McGee,
Has bet his good behavior that they’ll finish one, two, three.
Yes, the finest “inside” baseball I have seen in many a day
Is inside the dear old prison, where they like to have me stay.
The game we had last Saturday was sure a corking sight;
The Yeggmen beat the Grafters, but the Grafters made them fight.
McGee, the Grafters’ pitcher, had to hide his head in shame—
He tried to bribe the warden, who was umpiring the game.
If Saturday’s a pleasant day for outside games like ball
The Con Men play the Lifers, and we’ll be there, one and all.
For the finest “inside” baseball I have seen in many a day
Is inside the dear old prison, where they like to have me stay. |
