The voice of the Miners shut off today

Without it our baseball team didn't play the same way

His name was Sam Sunshine and he sat in the booth

Calling our minor league games till he was long in the tooth

He would describe every pitch, each hit, and diving grab

As well as every drop of sweat a player might decide to dab

Into a funk our team did fall

Somehow it seemed we couldn't play ball

But after a week of losses galore

Something happened which bettered our score

Each time one of us would come to bat

Sam's voice would rise from under the home plate mat

And tell us what pitch was about to come

So we could hit it out of the park, and then some

And when our opponents came to the plate

That very same voice would tell them to swing late

An uproar arose, and we took some heat

From all those teams we began to beat

An investigation was held to check it all out

But it never was solved beyond a reasonable doubt

The voice began to fade away, but we still continued to win

Apparently it just moved under cover of the crowd's loud din

And after every game at home or away

We take a moment for our respects to pay

To the best broadcaster who held a mike

Until he went down on a called third strike