[DamnYankees]

The Rubaiyat of Tom Stahl
(The Rise and Fall of a Manager)

EFORE the phantoms of the last year died,
Loudly a voice at Washington cried—
”Come to our city, Tom, and lead the Nats—
You’ll be our idol and our only Pride!

“You shall be manager, in fact and name—
You shall control, and you shall run the game-
No one shall say a word but you—
Come, hurry, Tom!”—and eagerly I came.

I strove and struggled, and I broke my neck
To lead the club, which soon became a wreck—
And, when I tried to use my own ideas,
I found I was—a three-spot in the deck!

There was the wall, o’er which I could not climb—
There was the hook, that threatened all the time—
The garden of red peaches promised me
Bore, as its fruit, a lemon and a lime!

I fought in vain—the walls were high and thick,
And those who held them plugged me with a brick.
The season ended, and I strove to gain
Authority—and got a lovely kick!

Oh, for my old job, as in days of yore,
With Stahlly working at my side once more—
No management for mine, but just the chance
To make the Nat directors good and sore!