ayah Wrote:
PopTodd Wrote:
My dad is the same age as him and grew up in the same suburb (Maywood, IL). But he claims to have never known him. DAMN!
did prine deliver his mail?
goodman has the quintessential comment on the cubs...the doormat of the national league.
No, but I believe that Prine grew up in Maywood, as well as delivered mail there.
And yeah "A Dying Cub's Fan Last Request" is the quintessential ode to futility, period, IMO. Love that tune.
Lyrics:
Quote:
By the shores of old Lake Michigan
Where the "hawk wind" blows so cold
An old Cubs fan lay dying
In his midnight hour that tolled
'Round his bed, his friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
And on his head they put this bright blue cap
From his all-time favorite sport
He told them, "It's late and it's getting dark in here
And I know it's time to go
But before I leave the lineup
Boys, there's just one thing I'd like to know
"Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League"
He told his friends "You know the law of averages says:
Anything will happen that can"
That's what it says
"But the last time the Cubs won a National League pennant
Was the year we dropped the bomb on Japan
The Cubs made me a criminal
Sent me down a wayward path
They stole my youth from me
(that's the truth)
I'd forsake my teachers
To go sit in the bleachers
In flagrant truancy
"And then one thing led to another
And soon I'd discovered alcohol, gambling, dope,
Football, hockey, lacrosse, tennis.
But what do you expect,
When you raise up a young boy's hopes
And then just crush 'em like so many paper beer cups.
Year after year after year
after year, after year, after year, after year, after year
'Til those hopes are just so much popcorn
For the pigeons beneath the 'El' tracks to eat
He said, "You know I'll never see Wrigley Field, anymore
Before my eternal rest
So if you have your pencils and your scorecards ready,
I'll read you my last request"
He said, "Give me a double-header funeral in Wrigley Field
On some sunny weekend day - no lights
Have the organ play the "National Anthem"
and then a little 'na, na, na, na, hey hey, hey, Goodbye'
Make six bullpen pitchers carry my coffin
and six groundskeepers clear my path
Have the umpires bark me out at every base
In all their holy wrath
It's a beautiful day for a funeral,
Hey Ernie, let's play two!
Somebody go get Jack Brickhouse to come back,
and conduct just one more interview
Have the Cubbies run right out into the middle of the field,
Have Keith Moreland drop a routine fly
Give everybody two bags of peanuts and a frosty malt
And I'll be ready to die
"Build a big fire on home plate out of your Louisville Slugger baseball bats,
And toss my coffin in
Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing 30-mile-an-hour southwest wind
When my last remains go flying over the left field wall
I'll bid the Bleacher Bums adíeu
And I will come to my final resting place,
Out on Waveland Avenue
The dying man's friends told him to cut it out
They said stop it that's an awful shame
He whispered, "Don't Cry, we'll meet by and by
Near the Heavenly Hall of Fame"
He said, "I've got season tickets to watch the Angels now,
So it's just what I'm going to do
But you the living, you're stuck here with the Cubs,
So it's me that feels sorry for you!"
And he said, "Ahh Play, play that lonesome losers tune,
That's the one I like the best"
And he closed his eyes, and slipped away
What we got is the Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
And here it is
Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League
_________________
Paul Caporino of M.O.T.O. Wrote:
I've recently noticed that all the unfortunate events in the lives of blues singers all seem to rhyme... I think all these tragedies could be avoided with a good rhyming dictionary.
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