I hope you get the chance to check out some of my blogs. Lately, I haven't been as diligent about them as I want to be, but this fall, I promise to do better.
Most of the time I blog about teaching, writing, and New Orleans. Now I'm also going to be including some of the work that students creates during "Writing Camps." If you want to learn about the "Writing Camps," head on over to the "Visits" page of my website.
Peace,
Phil
Lately, during school visits, we've been trying out a Sluggers Sing-A-Long! The Sluggers series has its' very own theme song. It's called the "Travelin' Nine Band," and it's the song that loads along with that link. If you have the time, teach the kids the song. It's a lot of fun! Below are the lyrics.
“Travelin’ Nine Band”
Their bats are splintered, their hats are torn.
Their uniforms look like they’ve been through war.
Their cleats are beat,
their hair is tossed.
They’re one strike away from totally lost.
But deep down inside, there’s a baseball drive that’s do or die.
Chorus:
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!” the townsfolk cry.
Here they come, it’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Rounding the country on a baseball drive,
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!”
It’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Who’s on first?
It’s the old Professor.
He’s got a bad eye, but his good eye’ll get ya.
On the second base bag with the big mustache,
It’s Tales, who wails, while everyone bats.
There’s Doc, working on third, swooping up hits in a fit like a bow-legged bird.
Chorus:
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!” the townsfolk cry.
Here they come, it’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Rounding the country on a baseball drive,
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!”
It’s the Travelin’ Nine.
There’s Soapbox Stephens, cleaning up short.
It’s double-play trouble -- call him “Bubbles,” for short.
Scribe's in center, writing letters to his mind.
Got the brain of Mark Twain, but the body of a giant.
Crazy Feet’s a fox in left, chasing balls, and Woody’s in right, but he can’t go wrong.
Chorus:
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!” the townsfolk cry.
Here they come, it’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Rounding the country on a baseball drive,
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!”
It’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Bridge:
Happy’s on the mound with his frown in a smile.
He can windmill the pill a mile.
Behind the dish, behind the mask,
it’s Miss Elizabeth – shh -- don’t ask.
Every single one of the Travelin’ Nine,
lay it on the line when they hit the diamond.
Every single one of the Travelin’ Nine,
play like today is a do or die
.
Chorus (2x):
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!” the townsfolk cry.
Here they come, it’s the Travelin’ Nine.
Rounding the country on a baseball drive,
“Hip, Hip, Huzzah!”
It’s the Travelin’ Nine.
