How Do You Solve A Problem Like The Joba

His fastball climbs and often blinds
But many times it's neither here nor there
He does a dance and pumps his fist
And practices that scary stare
Yet sadly underneath that gangster brim
Lies a brain that's short on vim and long on mist

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him
Many a thing he ought to understand
But how do you make him stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep games lost by his hand

How do you solve a problem like the Joba
How do you stop  the saves he blows  and keep his era down
How do you solve a problem like the Joba
A cinch to upset. Fans are all pissed. A clown