The shades of night were falling fast,
As from a sports store there pass’d
A man among the Christmas rabble,
Carrying an odd shaped paddle,
“PICKLEBALL”.
A smile stood in his bright blue eyes,
And many people wondered why;
But when they saw his paddle, they
Would stop and warn him not to play
“PICKLEBALL”.
“Don't try the game”, an old man said,
“Play chess or basketball instead,
Avoid it, sir, while yet you can!”
He said, “No way! you ancient man,
"PICKLEBALL".
“You’ll find it, sir, no harmless joke”
(A tennis pro it was who spoke),
“Oh shun this too seductive game!”
But still he answered just the same,
“PICKLEBALL”.
“O, wait!” his Gran'ma said, “I know!
The game will hook you and not let go,
So throw that dreadful paddle away”,
He said, “Excuse me Gran but I must play",
“PICKLEBALL”.
Gran'pa had his own refrain,
"My love life's gone, down the drain,
My wife is never home, it seems,
It's only pickleball of which she dreams".
PICKLEBALL
He didn't listen, he didn't care,
He wanted only to get where
They played the game, open for all,
His only thought to hit the ball.
PICKLEBALL
In gymnasiums he saw the light
Fluorescent tubes warm and bright,
In each a familiar ‘thwap’ he heard,
And from his lips escaped the word -
“PICKLEBALL”.
He entered in and started play,
And with his friends night and day
Competed ‘till he soon became
A mighty champion at the game
PICKLEBALL.
He beat them all, no matter who,
His friends, neighbours and sweetheart too;
His sister Jane and brother Matt,
He readily defeated at
PICKLEBALL.
He never drank, he never fed,
He never even went to bed!
In consequence at last he died,
And with his fleeting breath he cried
"PICKLEBALL".
And to his funeral there came
All dinkers 'n bangers known to fame;
As they laid him in the ground
“Game on!” was heard from all around.
"PICKLEBALL".
Original version written in 1902 (anonymously) at the height of the 'ping-pong' craze.
Adapted in 2017 for pickleball by Ken Holman ©
As from a sports store there pass’d
A man among the Christmas rabble,
Carrying an odd shaped paddle,
“PICKLEBALL”.
A smile stood in his bright blue eyes,
And many people wondered why;
But when they saw his paddle, they
Would stop and warn him not to play
“PICKLEBALL”.
“Don't try the game”, an old man said,
“Play chess or basketball instead,
Avoid it, sir, while yet you can!”
He said, “No way! you ancient man,
"PICKLEBALL".
“You’ll find it, sir, no harmless joke”
(A tennis pro it was who spoke),
“Oh shun this too seductive game!”
But still he answered just the same,
“PICKLEBALL”.
“O, wait!” his Gran'ma said, “I know!
The game will hook you and not let go,
So throw that dreadful paddle away”,
He said, “Excuse me Gran but I must play",
“PICKLEBALL”.
Gran'pa had his own refrain,
"My love life's gone, down the drain,
My wife is never home, it seems,
It's only pickleball of which she dreams".
PICKLEBALL
He didn't listen, he didn't care,
He wanted only to get where
They played the game, open for all,
His only thought to hit the ball.
PICKLEBALL
In gymnasiums he saw the light
Fluorescent tubes warm and bright,
In each a familiar ‘thwap’ he heard,
And from his lips escaped the word -
“PICKLEBALL”.
He entered in and started play,
And with his friends night and day
Competed ‘till he soon became
A mighty champion at the game
PICKLEBALL.
He beat them all, no matter who,
His friends, neighbours and sweetheart too;
His sister Jane and brother Matt,
He readily defeated at
PICKLEBALL.
He never drank, he never fed,
He never even went to bed!
In consequence at last he died,
And with his fleeting breath he cried
"PICKLEBALL".
And to his funeral there came
All dinkers 'n bangers known to fame;
As they laid him in the ground
“Game on!” was heard from all around.
"PICKLEBALL".
Original version written in 1902 (anonymously) at the height of the 'ping-pong' craze.
Adapted in 2017 for pickleball by Ken Holman ©
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