OVER THE PLATE.
Bill Jones had the speed of a cannon ball;
He could loosen a brick from a three-foot wall.
When he shot one across, it would hurtle by
Too swiftly for even the surest eye.
No one could hit him when he was right,
As no eye could follow the ball's quick flight.
Bill should have starred in a big league rôle,
But he stuck to the "minors"—he lacked control.
He could loosen a brick from a three-foot wall.
When he shot one across, it would hurtle by
Too swiftly for even the surest eye.
No one could hit him when he was right,
As no eye could follow the ball's quick flight.
Bill should have starred in a big league rôle,
But he stuck to the "minors"—he lacked control.
Jack Smith had a curve like a loop-the-loop;
It would start for your head with a sudden swoop
And break to your knee with a zigzag wave,
And the league's best batters would roar and rave
At the jump it took and the sudden swerve.
Shades of the Boomerang! What a curve!
But Jack's still doomed to a "bush league" Fate—
He could not "get it across" the plate.
It would start for your head with a sudden swoop
And break to your knee with a zigzag wave,
And the league's best batters would roar and rave
At the jump it took and the sudden swerve.
Shades of the Boomerang! What a curve!
But Jack's still doomed to a "bush league" Fate—
He could not "get it across" the plate.
Tom Brown had both the speed and the curves,
A combination which jarred the nerves.
He would steam 'em by till they looked like peas,
And they'd take a jump from your neck to your knees,
From the best to the worst in the league—by Jing!
He had them all in the Phantom Swing,
But he missed the mark of the Truly Great—
Poor Tom, he couldn't locate the plate.
A combination which jarred the nerves.
He would steam 'em by till they looked like peas,
And they'd take a jump from your neck to your knees,
From the best to the worst in the league—by Jing!
He had them all in the Phantom Swing,
But he missed the mark of the Truly Great—
Poor Tom, he couldn't locate the plate.
How is it with you, if I may ask?
Have you "got control" of your daily task?
Have you "got control" of your appetite?
Of your temper and tongue in the bitter fight?
Have you "got control" of your brawn and brain?
Or are you laboring all in vain?
It matters not what your daily rôle—
Have you got control? Have you got control?
Have you "got control" of your daily task?
Have you "got control" of your appetite?
Of your temper and tongue in the bitter fight?
Have you "got control" of your brawn and brain?
Or are you laboring all in vain?
It matters not what your daily rôle—
Have you got control? Have you got control?
It counts not what you may "have," my friend,
When the story is told at the game's far end;
The greatest brawn and the greatest brain
The world has known may be yours in vain.
The main "with control" is the one who mounts,
And it's "how you use what you've got" that counts.
Have you got "the bead?" Are you aiming straight?
How much of your effort "goes over the plate?"
When the story is told at the game's far end;
The greatest brawn and the greatest brain
The world has known may be yours in vain.
The main "with control" is the one who mounts,
And it's "how you use what you've got" that counts.
Have you got "the bead?" Are you aiming straight?
How much of your effort "goes over the plate?"