by James Finn Garner
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Scottie Pods, Scottie Pods,
What were the chances?
Oh, what were the odds?
Cut by the Rockies because you’re too old–
Your step getting heavy, your bat growing cold–
The Pale Hose invite you back into the fold
And you climb your way back like the grinder of old.
Fans love a player still hungry and bold
Who refuses to note for whom the bell’s tolled.
In the hot summer night, the scoreboard explodes
As you dig hard to mine one more season of gold.
Scottie Pods, Scottie Pods,
What were the chances?
Oh, what were the odds?
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Posted 8/6/2009