Shoestring Shooters

Here’s to the pards who don’t have the big bucks
But show up to shoot just the same
No fancy Fifth-Wheeler, just a beat up old truck
They shoot for the love of the game

There’s one thing you probably won’t hear one say
“Look at my brand new matched Colts!”
His irons are well used but he sure came to play
Then drive home in that bucket of bolts

His Stetson’s from Goodwill and his boots show some mud
And he won’t win a Best Costume prize
But his good ole heart beats strong with pure cowboy blood
You can tell by the smile  in his eyes

Now there’s not a thing wrong with a right wealthy man
I reckon we’d all like to be
But the guys who save quarters in an old coffee can
That sure spells dedication to me

No fancy blue Dillon, just a single stage press
Loading one at a time. What a sight!
That’s a level of love that’s bound to impress
As they smile and keep loading all night

Now some are great shooters and some not so good
Some right in the middle somewhere
They shoot on a shoestring. They’d shoot more if they could
When they do shoot, they’re glad to be there

So here’s to the pard who you see now and then
Who might just be down on his luck
He’ll shoot and have just as much fun as rich men
And drive home in that beat up old truck

Yup. Here’s to those pards who just do what they can
They’re not seeking buckles or fame
When you see one just say, “Well there goes a good man”
They just might be the heart of this game.