This lengthy poem extolling the virtues of the Savage Baseball team was written by Jack Duffy of Savage in 1920 - enjoy!
Listen, my friends, and I’ll tell you the story
Of how the Savage nine won fame and glory
How on the firing line they battled to win
Against great odds sometimes, but they never gave in.
From start to finish they played the best ball
That we ever did see back of the Savage town hall
How the fast teams from the city were swept off their feet
Whenever our heroes they happened to meet
There was never a rest from the minute the umpire called time
Until the game was won by our famous ball nine.
If it interested you, my friends, I’ll give you a personal sketch
Of each player our manager was lucky enough to catch
And sign up for the season on the old score book
That tells a wondrous tale if you care to look.
For some of our players were strangers in the first of the year
But to see them depart would now cause many a tear
To come to the eyes of all the young ladies
Who cried over each game like so many babies
So girls, you should donate a few minutes of your time
To thank each young man who played on our nine
Savage baseball team, 1915. Photo from the SCHS Collections.
First we come to Tom Duffy , so stately and tall
For that dark curly hair the ladies all fall
And although he had bad luck with a nurse or two
We’ll hand it to you Tom, we’ll slip it to you.
With one eye on the pitcher and one on the grandstand
How do you suppose he gets the ball in his hand
But leave it to Tom, the man behind the bat
On the player's’ bench a better ball player never sat.
Groove em’ old kid you would hear him cry
And oh my! How hard they would try
to knock the cover off
Only to find Tom was making a stall
Next we come to the only Ted Fuerst
Always giving his opponents the worst
Dope on the ball that we wonder they didn’t fall
To the fact that off his delivery it was useless to try
To even knock an infield fly
So great a pitcher Ted was he
It’s a wonder to us that Connie Mack couldn’t see
Where he would fit in the famous machine
And win the world’s championship for the Athletic team
To you, Ted Fuerst, we extend a glad hand
And by you our fans always stand.
Next we find George Coakley, so good looking and slim
With the face from which you could never change the grin.
He was sure of a hit and how he would run-
stealing bases for him only was fun
By far the best shortstop of them all
It’s a shame the way he would slam on the ball.
You would always find him up on his toes
All you could hear them say was “there he goes”
A fast man on bases, a shortstop without peer
the only trouble with him was that he never drank beer
An officer of the law, he sure could win
Any young lady’s heart with that cheerful grin.
Belle Plaine Tigers, around 1920. Photo from the SCHS Collections.
Next we come to Ray Coakley, another member of the clan
When up to the bat in a pinch he never would fan
First base was his position to play
And on the bag he always was sure to stay
No matter how hard the batter the ball would clout
When it came to him, the umpire hollered “out”!
Every time up to bat he was sure of a hand
And he had the bunch going in the whole grandstand
He always played ball the best he knew how
And with the umpire never had a row
Such a favorite with the girls, it seems funny to me
He was never tangled up in the sea of matrimony
Next we come to Frank Bowman who played second base
Look out, sod busting umpires. he’ll change the map of your face!
Every time up to bat the fielders would back out
For they knew he would hit an awful clout
So short standing at bat the pitcher he would work
for a base on balls and going to second he'd never shirk.
On third he would land to get the glad hand
While many a bright eyed lady watched out from the grandstand
For with the girls he sure did shine
Hew was there and over every time
To you, Frank Bowman, we wish good luck
You were always trim and full of pluck
Next we find Jimmy Lannon on third
at scooping them out of the dirt he was sure a bird
at bat it was single, single, single
His teammates were always sure of a safe bingle.
His own bat he carried, it would never fail
The opposing pitcher wished he were in jail
Every time up to bat you could hear the bunch shout
O you Jimmie, hit’er out hit’er out
The ladies would all say “Isn’t he fine”
Every time he would knock one out on a line
He worried the pitchers, had them up in the air
Every ball he hit was sure to go fair.
Baseball player in Scott County, 1909. Photo from the SCHS Collections.
Next we find Wally Raymond, a fielder beyond doubt
No matter how hard they hit them they were sure to be out
Left field he held down, and may the time
The way he speared them was sure to be a crime
Always in the game with ginger and vim
Kidding his partner Bill to keep him trim
Always a safe batter he was sure to hit
A long drive at the right time, in the best place it would fit
Welcome to our town Wally, and long may you stay
Until you have grown quite old and grey
And may you never forget the time
You signed up to play ball with the Savage Nine
Next we come to Bill Flannery with such wavy pretty hair
The nicest young man in Savage all the girls declare
Center field was the place where he played the game-
Don’t leave us now Bill or we will never be the same
As a ball play we’ll say he was sure there
They we he pulled down long drives would raise one’s hair
Stealing bases was his special delight
for every one hie stole, he got a Budweiser that night
At bat he was sure to hit them square on the nose
And then be up and going fast on his toes
The only trouble we find with Bill is the girls did their best
To keep him out all night and away from rest.
Next we find Bill Lannon, so short and small
Its a wonder we could see him in the tall grass at all
In right field he was a wonder
He would never make a blunder-
To you Billy Lannon, we take off our hat!
We were sure of a safe hit with you at the bat
Fast on the bases, it was a wonder to see
The way he would fly around like a big bumble bee
The girls were all sorry to see him go
And may he come back with the first fall of snow
Canada is all right in the winter, we’ll say
But come back in the spring Bill, we want you to play.
And now we have to hand it to Ed Hanson
He sure is there even though he’s not handsome
The trouble he went through is enough to make anyone blue
And we certainly must hand it to him, always loyal and true
Tom Duffy was one trial, and when he got worse
We thank Ed Hanson for getting nurse
Ted Fuerst was a model young man out there
But Ed never offered him any Budweiser beer
George Coakley was a bad egg, he would drink red pop
But he always came around well, always on top
Ray Coakley’s mind was always far away
Dreaming of Credit River on bright summer day.
Victor Kahle of Belle Plaine in a baseball uniform, around 1920. Photo from the SCHS Collections.
Hanson humored Bowman by offering to bet
His month’s wages on George Gano, Frank’s little pet.
Jimmie Lannon would have to call up and promise ice cream
Before he would come down and play with the team
Wally Raymond had to be put to bed when the clock struck nine.
So as to be sure he would get up and be around on time
Billy Flannery was the worst trial- Hanson would threaten, coax and cajole
But out with the night owls Bill would go for a stroll
Billy Lannon was good as long as Ed was around
but watch him go wrong when the right one he found.
So here my friends you have the Savage team
The best ball players by far that were ever seen
And we hope next spring when ball time rolls around
Ed Garvey will be out again to fix up the ground
And may we see again the same ball game
And many the ladies see to fit it, for the sake of our renown
That none of our young men leave Savage, their home town.
And you, friends and neighbors who have seen many a game
Let not the lives of our young athletes seem to tame
Be sure to attend this winter, their ball
Which will help them along again until next fall
Although they played good ball and played their best
It was not what you would call a financial success
So altogether now, let us give, one at a time
Three cheers for each member of our baseball nine.