The Day That Baseball Died by Doug Fowler

A long, long time ago,
I still remember watchin’ Cobb and Joe D. snare pop flies.
And I knew if I had my way
that I could make the Tribe someday
And maybe I’d be happy for a while.
But strikes and lockouts started coming,
And steroid rumors were a-humming.
The game seemed to comprise
Of too many bad guys.
I can’t remember if I’ve cried quite like when Lou Gehrig said goodbye.
But something’s touched me deep inside.
It feels like baseball’s died.

So bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

Did you see Mays make that catch?
Oh! Those balls Ozzie and Brooks could fetch..
Plays that took your breath away.
Ruth and Schmidt hit some colossal clouts
And Mendoza made lots of outs.
Like on those Tinker, Evers, Chance double plays.

Well I don’t know Who is playing first,
But at least those Red Sox broke the Curse
So let’s get Joe some shoes
As Banks says “Let’s play two-oo”
Any old team had hope and the fans could cheer
Say with confidence “Wait till next year”
But now smaller teams just disappear
It feels likes baseball’s died.

We started singin’
Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

For some years we’ve had a spending spree
Everything governed by TV
But that’s not how a game should be.
Great men played the game for both you and me
Stan the Man, “Pops” Stargell, and Matty
And the parks they all seemed so cozy.

When Terry couldn’t keep the ball down,
Maz’roski’s Bucs took New York’s crown
Maris got asterisked
By Commissions Frick
And when Fulton County’s morning rocked
with fireworks at four o’clock
well it still wasn’t half the shock
as the day that baseball died.

We were singin’
Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

Branca, Thomson what a stunning ending
Pennant races truly meaning something
Thirteen up and falling fast.
Fisk waved that big home run fair,
Henderson ran the bases with flair,
And Hank Aaron clobbered a historic blast.

Jackie’s first big league game was so fine
Like the batting eye of number nine
Whose speech helped Josh, and Paige,
“Pop” Lloyd and Charleston have their day.
Ryan, Carlton dueled past the Big Train,
Kirk Gibson pinch-homered in pain,
But now our hopes are doused by rain,
It feels like baseball’s died.

We started singin’
Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

Oh, and there they are all in one place
The legend built on Doubleday
One that helps us remember when.
So now we can play all our games on Strat
Cy Young can pitch while Hornsby bats
Grove, Feller, Fingers, Spahn in the bullpen

Our computer guys can do great deeds
While the real game is run by greed
Yaz, Wagner, Bench, Ol’ Pete,
Still bring fans to their feet.
We’ll see Koufax light up radar guns,
Carew and Morgan on the run
We’ll even talk to the ball for fun
So long as baseball’s died.

We’ll be singin’
Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

I met a vendor who sang the blues
And I asked him for some happy news.
But, he just sighed and turned away.
I went down to that sacred shrine
Where Harry sang and the ivy twined
But to enter seemed to take a whole weeks’ pay.
And in the streets the children dreamed
Of Brett and Seaver on fields of green.
But not a word was spoken,
Fans’ hearts had oft been broken.
And the men I always thought would stay
Like Mickey, and Duke, a-and Willie Mays
They’ve all slowly drifted away
They say that baseball’s died.

Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.

Bye, bye sunny days in July
With the family at the ballpark watchin’ home runs fly.
The sides are bad enough to make a man cry
Oh it seems our great game has died!
Oh it seems our great game has died.