Happy Robbie Burns Day

Happy Robbie Burns Day

 

In honour of Robbie Burns day, a day to celebrate Scotland’s most beloved poet, we bring you the names of Major League Baseball’s 8 Scotland-born players, and a special treat.

 

 

They are:

 

George Chalmers

Mike Hopkins

Mac MacArthur

Jim McCormick

Mike McCormick

Hugh Nicol

Bobby Thomson  -The “Staten Island Scot” was born in Glasgow.

Tom Waddell

 

You may or may not believe it, but Scotland has its own National Baseball Team.   Yes, it’s true. And now, your special treat.

 

special treat

 

If that doesn’t do it for you then maybe you would like to know that in honour of Robbie Burns Day, Van Halen has decided to reunite with lead singer David Lee Roth and begin touring in May!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the words of Burns:

SOME hae meat, and canna eat, 

 And some wad eat that want it ;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

 And sae the Lord be thankit.

 

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2 replies on “Happy Robbie Burns Day”
  1. says: Early

    Interesting article. I would have guessed that there were more from the Clan Na Gailiea in the Major Leaguers. Esp 19th C players. Bobby Thomson is by far the best of this group.

  2. says: Haggis McHaggis

    OH Happy Burns day to all my fellow Scot’s!

    Tae A Fart

    Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie
    Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie
    As ye sit doon amongst yer kin
    There sterts tae stir an enormous win’

    The neeps an’ tatties an’ mushy peas
    Stert workin’ like a gentle breeze
    But soon the puddin’ wi’ the sonsie face
    Will have ye blawin’ a’ ower the place.

    Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
    A’body’s gonnae hae tae pay
    Even if ye try tae stifle
    It’s like a bullet oot o’ a rifle

    Haud yer bum tight tae the chair
    Tae try an’ stop the leakin’ air
    Shift yersel fae cheek tae cheek
    Pray tae God it disnae reek.

    But aw yer efforts gan asunder
    Oot it comes like a clap o’ thunder
    Ricochets aroon’ the room
    Michty me! A sonic boom

    God Almichty, it fairly reeks!
    Hope I huvnae s**t ma breeks!
    Tae the bog ah’d better scurry,
    Ach, whit the hell, it’s no ma worry.

    A’body roon aboot me chokin’
    Yin or twa were nearly boakin’
    I’ll feel better for a while
    Cannae help but raise a smile.

    Wis him! I shout with accusin’ glower,
    Alas! Too late! He’s just keeled ower
    Ye dirty bugger, they shout and stare
    A didnae feel welcome ony mair

    Where e’r ye be let yer wind gan free
    Sounds like just the job for me
    Whit a fuss at Rabbie’s party
    Ower the sake o’ one wee farty.

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