Howie Newman
MUSIC, COMEDY and MORE
SONG LYRICS
BASEBALL'S GREATEST  HITS, VOLUME 2
www.howienewman.com          hjnewman@verizon.net          781-662-2616
Why Did You Go, Johnny Damon?
Why did you go, Johnny Damon? Why did you take the cash and run?
Do you think in New York City you'll be having this much fun?
They cut your hair and shaved your beard
You smiled and just said, "Thanks."
And we don't love you anymore 'cause now you're with the Yanks
Perhaps they didn't tell you, perhaps you did not now.
Left-center field's 450-plus. How you gonna make that throw?
There's lots more gorund to cover. You're getting slower every year.
And I bet by mid-July, you'll wish that you were here

Now, George he don't like losin' so you best be on your guard
'Cause if you don't hit .300, life will never be so hard.
And if you don't make the playoffs and win a couple rounds
The fans will cuss and swear at you and run you out of town

Why did you go, Johnny Damon? Why did you take the cash and run?
Do you think in New York City you'll be having this much fun?
You're out of sight and out of mind. Don't think that you'll be missed
We don't love you anymore 'cause we've got Coco Crisp


Weekend Warrior
Ice it down, stretch it out, wrap it up, gotta get ready. I'm a weekend warrior
One more game, one more day, one more swing and one more play for the weekend warrior

I don't just play because I look so good in polyester, I do it 'cause it makes me feel alive
After working all week long, I tend to get a little stressed but when I step out on that field, I feel all right

My wife says quit, my kids ask why, the coach says sit but I can't lie. I'm a weekend warrior
It could be my last, never know, one game down and one to go for the weekend warrior

At my age, I should be playing golf or sleeping late but I like to sweat and get dirty
I like to step up to the plate

Aches and pains, muscle tears, limping up and down the stairs. I'm a weekend warrior
On Monday morn, I can’t run or throw but six more days, I'll be ready to go. I'm a weekend warrior


Mendoza Line
I'm mired in this awful slump, I need some luck to clear the hump or I'll be ridin' buses any day
I need a hit so bad that I could cry. The worse I do, the harder I try, that 90 feet looks like a mile away

I'll take a bloop, a flare, a 16-hopper, a lucky bounce or a Baltimore chopper
Just get me 'cross that ol' Mendoza line. Of course, I'd prefer a frozen rope
But a swinging bunt would give me hope. I gotta cross that ol' Mendoza Line

Mendoza Line, Mendoza Line. Just get me 'cross that ol' Mendoza Line
Mendoza Line, Mendoza Line. I gotta cross that ol' Mendoza Line

Now, Mario Mendoza, for whom this line is named was an actual big-leaguer for 686 games
He played short and second, a little third. Had quite a glove or so I've heard
Which was essential 'cause he barely hit his weight

Though known for his infield utility, he set the benchmark for futility, flirting with .200 all the time
In '79, he tied an all-time mark for the most games played in a big league park
With an average below the Mendoza Line

He made the playoffs only once and here's his stats: three games played and one hit in five total at-bats
Do the math correctly and you will surely find, he's right smack dab on that Mendoza Line

So if you're struggling on the field or any part of life, think of that brave soul from south of the border
He plugged and scrapped his whole life through, only to be linked to ineptitude
He's a true immortal of a different order


It's the End of the Curse and We Know It
Parody of It's the End of the World As We Know It (and I Feel Fine) by R.E.M.
New lyrics by Howie Newman
Words and music by Howie Newman except where indicated
©2008 Howie Newman, Chin Music (BMI)
That's great, it starts with a two-out walk, then a steal off New York's ace. Roberts stood at second base.
Sox were down, three to none, everybody said they're done, Mueller up the middle, in came the tying run
Boston pen wouldn't bend, Yanks never scored again. No panic, Leskanic, Fenway's getting really manic
Papi took a big hack, the ball went way back into the night

In a New York minute, Sox are back in it, breathing down their necks
Fourteenth inning more winning, Yanks are spinning, Ortiz did it one more time
Next night, Yanks are tight, bloody sock, such a shock. Big Schill shutdown, Bellhorn downtown
All tied, what a ride, keep it going one more night
A-Rod tried slapping but the umps weren't napping and we're feeling pretty psyched

It's the end of the curse and we know it, it's the end of the curse and we know it
It's the end of the curse and we know it. And I feel fine

Everything on the line, Damon 3-for-29, wham bam, grand slam, Sox cruise, sea of boos
Brown's done after one, na na hey hey, Boston bats just wouldn't go away-hey
Varitek, Nixon, Wakefield, Timlin, Pokey Reese, Cabrera, Embree and Millar
Bronson Arroyo, Ramirez and Pedro never gave it up, got 'em where they are
Mighty good, might fine, it was the greatest comeback of all time

Midwest big dance, Cards had no chance, four straight in '04, Foulke came and shut the door
Derek Lowe three-and-oh, Manny took the trophy home, no more screamin' 1918
The bats were a-blazing, the pitching was amazing. What else can you say?


Doug Mientkiewicz
Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s my favorite player, Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s the man, he’s the man
Doug Mientkiewicz, I just love to say it, Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s the man, he’s the man

When he was a Twin, it didn’t mean a thing. Then he joined the Sox and Doug Mientkiewicz really rocked
Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s my favorite player, Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s the man, he’s the man

He’s kind to his mother and a former Gold Glover
Doug may not make the Hall of Fame but he’s got 12 letters in his name
Doug Mientkiewicz, I can’t even spell it. Doug Mientkiewicz, but I sure do like to yell it
Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s my favorite player, Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s the man, he’s the man

M-I-E-N, T-K-I-E, W-I-C-Z (I think that’s right)
Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s my favorite player, Doug Mientkiewicz, he just took that ball and ran
Doug Mientkiewicz, I just love to say it, Doug Mientkiewicz, he’s the man, he’s the man


Blasted in the Bleachers
Walkin’ down to Jersey Street on a scorching summer day
Heading off to Fenway Park, that’s where the Red Sox play. The clock in Kenmore Square says almost 2
We’re gonna sit way out in center field and this is what we’ll do

Let’s go get blasted in the bleachers, act insane. The sun, some beer and all those people
We can even watch the game. I don’t need no runs or hits just a six pack of Schlitz
Win or lose, we’ll feel the same. It’s only a game

The stands are filling up and baby so am I. The batter hits a grounder but I’m flying high
There’s a double play, a stolen base, a fastball up and in and the batter he breaks his bat
I’ll drink to that

Don’t say we ain’t good fans. We even clean up our cans
When the seventh-inning stretch comes, we try to stand up
We’re always nice and friendly and never throw our cups

The bases are loaded and so am I. There’s a screamin’ line drive and I can hear it cry
There’s a close play out at third and the coach jumps up and down and yells like a spoiled brat
I’ll drink to that
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