Player, Oh player, you suit up well,

While wearing your uniform, you cast your spell.

Day after day, and night after night,

You think no one knows you, so you play it polite.

But playing the game isn’t your thing,

After all, you just love base running.

Chaos is not the name of the game but yet you persist,

All because you think you’re just too good to resist.

You make your own rules, but you don’t play by the book.

With vexation you glance over to first, keeping an eye on your rebellious rook.

Three strikes and you’re to blame,

These consequences run deeper than any game.

An out is an out and your sportsmanship was always flat.

As a result, you throw a wink at the next one up to bat.

There’s much more on the line than a World Series ring,

It’s the string of hearts you’re cleverly assassinating.

Player, Oh player, you’ll get your award,

But be careful what you wish for going forward.

You got your MVP, but your lies will catch up with your pride.

Oh little player, fear not, because there are things you just cannot hide.

It won’t be your lies that lead to your demise.

It will be later on in life that humiliation will devour you inside.

Player, Oh player, you may think that you have won,

But you will be stranded in the base paths when your love leaves you abandoned.