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Here’s a Rock and Roll Song About Big Ed Delahanty

Jun 1, 2012, 1:55 PM EDT

Thanks to NPR doing a segment on a rock band known as The Baseball Project, we searched the Internets to see just what kind of tunes the band play. Surely enough, there was an entire track dedicated to Big Ed and his hitting prowess. It's a melancholy tale.

Any Philadelphia fan who has watched their share of Phillies games has surely heard the name Ed Delahanty mentioned when it comes to some of the all-time great batting numbers in the team’s history.

In 2005 for example, Jimmy Rollins surpassed Big Ed’s previous franchise-best hitting streak of 31 games.

And then there’s that whole getting kicked off a train for allegedly being drunk and unruly and subsequently falling/jumping off Niagara falls to his death ordeal.

But other than knowing he was one hell of a ball player and left the world in a crazy manner is about as far as most people get with Big Ed Delahanty.

[learn more on Ed Delahanty's wikipedia page]

Thanks to NPR doing a segment on a rock band known as The Baseball Project, we searched the Internets to see just what kind of tunes the band play.

Surely enough, there was an entire track dedicated to Big Ed and his hitting prowess. It’s a melancholy tale.

Here are the lyrics to the tune as transcribed by lyricsmania.com:

Sometimes, hungover, he might lose a pop fly in the glare of the Washington sun.
And yes, he swung at bad pitches, and let the Irish in him sharpen up and boozy-bloat his tongue.

Nights on the road he led a bachelor’s life, with the bright short blaze of a shooting star.
But he soaked some homers-yeah, four in one game–when the ball was dead and the fences far.

Big Ed don’t let them weigh you down.
Big Ed don’t let us weigh you down.

In July 1903 he was hitting .333; for him that was a little bit under par.
On the 2nd he jumped the team and jumped a train from Detroit to New York, went straight for the dining car.
He was boozing it up good, they say, making trouble, cursing, shouting, Delahanting in the bar.
At Fort Erie, Ontario, he was bumped from the train, wandered out on the international bridge but he didn’t get too far.

Big Ed don’t let them weigh you down.
Big Ed don’t let us weigh you down.

The night watchman said he’d seen a man, ended up wearing his bowler hat; he heard a splash but he didn’t see him fall.
For a week nobody found a clue of him.
What good’s it do to question death when it makes a bad call?
But I don’t think he killed himself. I think some strange notion drew him to Niagara Falls,
across the great curve of day and night, like the perfect arch of a high fly ball.