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Linda Allen
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Coach's Wife
I am the coach's wife, it's not
The life I would have chosen
But here I am at 42 degrees
Sitting in the bleachers, leanin' on my knees
Hopin' my boy gets a hit, oh, please
Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please
Little did I know when I married my husband
Underneath the poet and the peaceful warrior
Lurked the heart of a super-sized jock
Who rocked our baby to baseball talk
Presented him a bat before he could walk
I like to hike and maybe some biking
Theater and concerts, poetry dates
But fate just laughed and gave me him
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With his trickster eyes and Saturday grin
And it's off to the ball park once again
Hum, batter, batter, Hum, batter, batter
Give it a ride, give it a ride
Find a gap, sit back and drive it
Slide, slide, slide
I'm in love with my boys of summer
My boys of spring and fall and winter
Oh, my God, it's a suicide squeeze
My boy's in the middle, it's 42 degrees
The coach, his dad, is on his knees
Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please
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