Boots Of Spanish Leather
- One: Oh, I’m sailin’ away my own true love. I’m sailin’ away in the morning. Is there something I can send you from across the sea, from the place that I’ll be landing?
- Two: No, there’s nothin’ you can send me, my own true love. There’s nothin’ I wish to be ownin’. Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled, from across that lonesome ocean.
- One: Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine, made of silver or of golden, either from the mountains of Madrid or from the coast of Barcelona.
- Two: Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night and the diamonds from the deepest ocean, I’d forsake them all for your sweet love, for that’s all I’m wishin’ to be ownin’.
- One: That I might be gone a long time and it’s only that I’m askin’, is there something I can send you to remember me by to make your time more easy passin’?
- Two: Oh, how can, how can you ask me again? It only brings me sorrow. The same thing I want from you today, I would want again tomorrow.
- One: I got a letter on a lonesome day. It was from her ship a-sailin’, saying "I don’t know when I’ll be comin’ back again. It depends on how I’m a-feelin’."
- Two: Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way, I’m sure your mind is roamin’. I’m sure your heart is not with me, but with the country to where you’re goin’. So take heed, take heed of the western wind. Take heed of the stormy weather. And yes, there’s something you can send back to me, Spanish boots of Spanish leather.
- together in 2011: http://youtu.be/3a9xfaQtFbI
- together in 1995: http://youtu.be/P-Zjo215wuk
- 1963: http://youtu.be/ij6BjS3VqwE
Baseball, like life, revolves around anticlimax. That in many ways is the beauty of it. I realize that’s a hard thing to explain to someone who doesn’t love baseball, no, more than hard, it’s an impossible thing to explain because many people want sports to be more than life, they follow sports to jolt them out of the steady rhythms of the shriek of alarm clocks, the monotony of morning meetings, the rush to get our kids to soccer practice by 4 p.m. They want sports to be bigger than life. What’s the point, otherwise? There is nothing in baseball as jarring as a blind-side hit, as jaw-dropping as a perfect alley-oop, as tense and heart-pounding as a breakaway.
And the hard thing to explain, the impossible thing, is that many of us love baseball not in spite of these failings but because of them.— Joe Posnanski, HERE