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.