George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was a loyal baseball fan, though.
No, he didn’t follow the Pittsburgh Pirates.
No self-respecting pirate would be caught dead in Pittsburgh.
He followed the Bradeton Marauders, a minor league club.
George went to every game, dressed up in his best pirate regalia, and he’d lead the cheers.
Waving his cutlass in the air, shouting for all nine innings.
The fans thought he was awesome.
“You’re the best pirate ever,” the kids would say.
And, with a happy tear in his eye, he shouted “ONE TWO THREE… YARRRRRRRRRRR!”