(NOTE: Written by my Dad, apparently just after

          WW2, when times of “politically correct speech”   

            had yet to be heard of!)            

        “SPORT OF KINGS –  AMERICAN STYLE”

Regardless of age or sex, Americans dote on baseball these days.

They scream and they boo in ear-splitting fashion.

“Murder the ump,” “take him out”, are their yells.

Stamping their feet and rattling their bells.

The players are ideals of the American boy.

Bringing excitement and woe and spine-tingling joy.

A clean, healthy sport and pastime sublime

Rules the summer months when the temperatures climb.

Not only for Junior does baseball ring the gong,

But Pop’s pressure goes up when he listens along.

Both know their teams, both strive for more knowledge;

Pappy thru his “gray years”, the boy on thru college.

Never let it be said the fair sex is omitted,

For “Ladies’ day” at the park finds the spouses riveted;

Their senses alive with rooting for rallies

Thousands of vocal chords ringing for tallies.

Take away movies, take away nightspots,

These fans are ardent in their love for night games on lots.

Any move to kill baseball will result in an upheaval

Too strong to put down – it better get a reprieve.

The Germans and Japs didn’t know what we fought for,

What made us mad, what got us sore?

Why, they threatened our National Pastime with their antics,

Thus did we whip ‘em and beat off their “pantics”.

Yes, baseball is born in the lowliest creature.

In the great land of America, it’s as strong as the preacher.

Deep-rooted, inborn desire for contest

A monument to democracy far above “tinted” protest.

As long as this spirit is alive and draws new blood,

We’re safe from dam breaks which allow an aggressive flood

To wash down our streets with “share the wealth” bosh;

And such ignorant red ideals – just so much hog-wash.