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Song Parodies -> "A Baseball Ballad"
Original Song Title:
"The Irish Ballad"
Original Performer:
Tom Lehrer
Parody Song Title:
"A Baseball Ballad"
Parody Written by:
Michael Pacholek
The Lyrics
Back before Americans discovered European soccer, before the NBA was founded, and before college basketball and professional hockey became big deals in America, the writer Paul Gallico was asked why he gave up writing about sports. His answer was "February." Well, now that the football season is over, and Travis Kelce has stopped yelling at everyone who ISN'T Taylor Swift, my twisted mind is turning back to baseball. Tom Lehrer wrote a murder ballad in the auld Irish style, hence the title, complete with "an idiotic refrain: Rickety-tickety-tin." I decided to leave that in, even though I could have altered it to match a real-life player, Rickey Henderson. Instead, I chose to make up a fictional one, with characteristics of real ones that baseball fans may recognize. Any such resemblance is NOT coincidental.
(piano intro)
About a man I'll sing a song
say rickety-tickety-tin.
About a man I'll sing a song.
The balls he hit were very long.
But everything else, he would seem to do wrong...
And no Pennant would he ever win.
No win.
No Pennant would he ever win.
One day, his team went to Detroit
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One day, his team went to Detroit.
A ground-ball hitter he could exploit.
But his throw to first base, it was not adroit...
Upon it, he put too much spin.
Much spin.
Upon it, he put too much spin.
One night, he took the field at Busch
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One night, he took the field at Busch
and all his luck, he set out to push.
He swung, struck out, and fell on his tush...
And the pitcher was left with a grin.
A grin.
His face in a hideous grin.
He took the field at old Fenway
say rickety-tickety-tin.
He took the field at old Fenway
but didn't like what the umpire would say.
In argument with him, he let loose some spray...
And the game, he was no longer in.
Not in.
The game, he was no longer in.
One night, at Yankee Stadium
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One night, at Yankee Stadium
he went 0-for-4 like a total bum.
His fielding continued be quite dumb...
A Gold Glove, he never had been.
Had been.
A Gold Glove, he never had been.
One day, upon Chicago's lake
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One day, upon Chicago's lake
he made every conceivable mistake.
The Wrigley Bleacher Bums called him a flake...
The Cubs' trade for him was a sin.
A sin.
They all thought that it was a sin.
Then, finally, in the name of peace
say rickety-tickety-tin.
Then, finally, in the name of peace
in the general manager's office
the GM said, "I'm giving you your release!
and I'm tossing you into the bin.
The bin.
I'm tossing you into the bin."
And so, now that he's out of the game
say rickety-tickety-tin.
And so, now that he's out of the game
who is responsible for his shame?
Those teams only have themselves to blame...
They should never have let him begin.
Begin.
They should never have let him begin.
About a man I'll sing a song
say rickety-tickety-tin.
About a man I'll sing a song.
The balls he hit were very long.
But everything else, he would seem to do wrong...
And no Pennant would he ever win.
No win.
No Pennant would he ever win.
One day, his team went to Detroit
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One day, his team went to Detroit.
A ground-ball hitter he could exploit.
But his throw to first base, it was not adroit...
Upon it, he put too much spin.
Much spin.
Upon it, he put too much spin.
One night, he took the field at Busch
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One night, he took the field at Busch
and all his luck, he set out to push.
He swung, struck out, and fell on his tush...
And the pitcher was left with a grin.
A grin.
His face in a hideous grin.
He took the field at old Fenway
say rickety-tickety-tin.
He took the field at old Fenway
but didn't like what the umpire would say.
In argument with him, he let loose some spray...
And the game, he was no longer in.
Not in.
The game, he was no longer in.
One night, at Yankee Stadium
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One night, at Yankee Stadium
he went 0-for-4 like a total bum.
His fielding continued be quite dumb...
A Gold Glove, he never had been.
Had been.
A Gold Glove, he never had been.
One day, upon Chicago's lake
say rickety-tickety-tin.
One day, upon Chicago's lake
he made every conceivable mistake.
The Wrigley Bleacher Bums called him a flake...
The Cubs' trade for him was a sin.
A sin.
They all thought that it was a sin.
Then, finally, in the name of peace
say rickety-tickety-tin.
Then, finally, in the name of peace
in the general manager's office
the GM said, "I'm giving you your release!
and I'm tossing you into the bin.
The bin.
I'm tossing you into the bin."
And so, now that he's out of the game
say rickety-tickety-tin.
And so, now that he's out of the game
who is responsible for his shame?
Those teams only have themselves to blame...
They should never have let him begin.
Begin.
They should never have let him begin.
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