by Kevin Baker
With apologies to The Band.
Tyler Wade is the name, and I come on the Scranton train
Till Coops brought Walker in, tried to drive me back to PA again.
In the spring of 2018
A done deal it may have seemed
By the Ides of March, the Gleyber was done
And that Cave, he ain’t nobody’s fortunate son.
The night they tried to drive ol’ Tyler down
But I tell ya I ain’t goin’
The night they tried to drive ol’ Tyler down
But the plays just kept flowin’
Like Refsnyder before me
I tried to break in from below,
And like Judge above me
I started just a little slow,
But that Neil now, he is 32, and the back it just won’t do.
I swear that Coops oughta just desist
You can’t start a man when he’s on the disabled list.
And it’s the night, they tried to drive ol’ Tyler down
And I seen enough a’ that Scranton
The night they tried to drive ol’ Tyler down
Not my idea of fun
And I’m singin’ nyah-nyah-nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah.
This first appeared on the Yankee-mad blog, It is High, It is Far, It is . . . caught.Â