Offbeat Sunday: Oh Pickleball

O PICKLEBALL

(To the tune of O Christmas Tree)

Words by: Nolan Ahn, Kauai, Hawaii

O Pickleball O Pickleball, 

This game is so addictive.

O Pickleball O Pickleball,

I wish I was more active.

The ball has holes and flies so slow, 

It lets us hit it to and fro.

It makes us think that we are fast,

The truth is that our time is past.

My paddle is my only tool, 

Sometimes it makes me look the fool.

If I should miss the ball in flight,

It has a hole and that’s not right.

I want to hit the ball with might,

It hits the net I lose my fight.

I dink the ball it comes up short,

Who thought up this stupid sport?

We count our points upon our serve, 

The pressure’s on, it tests our nerve.

If it is out, we stand and pout,

Our partner thinks O what a lout.

There is a place called the kitchen, 

To hit balls there would be bitchin’.

But if you do, you’ll hear a moan,

In this game it’s a no fly zone.

Now that I’m old and young no more, 

My body hurts right to the core.

O Pickleball O Pickleball,

I hope that I can make a score.

If I should die before I wake, 

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

To Heaven where the courts are free,

And Pickleballers sure to be.

We’ll play the game with so much skill, 

Every shot will be a kill.

We’ll dink and bang both night and day,

And our bodies won’t need Ben-gay.

O Pickleball O Pickleball, 

I am so glad I found you.

You make my life so fun to live,

I write these words to you I give.