How does a bastard, 8th Round Selection
And a San Marcos man, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot
In Milwaukee by providence impoverished
In squalor, grow up to be a speedster and stealer?
The $720,000 rookie
Got a lot farther by working a lot harder
By being a lot smarter
By being a self-starter
By twenty-three, they placed him in charge of a guarding the middle
And every day while Tyler O’Neill’s knees were rotting away
Across the harbor, he struggled and kept his guard up
Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of
The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter
Then his K-rate came, and devastation reigned
Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain
Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain
And he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain
Well, the word got around, they said, this kid is insane, man
Took up a collection just to send him to the Majors
Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came
And the world is gonna know your name
What’s your name, man?