Base-Ball Ballads/"The Major Leaguer's Daughter; Or, The Turning of the Tide"

by Grantland Rice

 

"THE MAJOR LEAGUER'S DAUGHTER;" OR, "THE TURNING OF THE TIDE."

(Up to the hour of going to press the music of this soon-to-be popular ballad had not been written. The sport department office boy was out at the time, while the janitor was busy; so any who peruse it must compose their own music to the selection.)

They were seated in the parlor, where the gas was burning low.
 And he held her little paw within his own;
He looked at her and whispered: "Mame, you know I love you so;
 You've made more hits with me than Fielder Stone,
Your curves look awful good to me, your speed is just my style."
 But here he stopped and sadly bowed his head;
The decision was against him, he was out about a mile,
When unto him these cruel words she said:

Chorus.
"I am the only daughter of a major league phenom,
 While you are but an unknown bush league bloke.
My old man hits .300 almost every season, Tom;
 While they tell me that your average is a joke.
Some day when you are drafted or you have a batting eye,
 I may listen to the words you have to say;

So Tom, he passed her up for good, and now she wonders why
Them cruel words unto him once she said.

 

But until you show the goods, take a hike back to the woods,
 For there's nothing doing here for you to-day—day—day!"

The years went by and Tom improved; his work began to shine,
 His batting and his fielding were immense.
His average jumped from .083 around .449,
 While every day he splintered up some fence.
But in the meantime Mame's old man began to lose his eye;
 They canned him when his salary whip went dead.
So Tom, he passed her up for good, and now she wonders why
 Them cruel words unto him once she said:

Chorus.
"I am the only daughter of a major league phenom," etc.