Dad Rock: The San Diego Padres Are Responsible for the Worst Sports Songs Ever Written

Yes, even worse than Scott Stapp’s Marlins song. Lord forgive the parents who squandered their children’s chance for a normal life by subjecting them to this stuff.
Art & Culture
Dad Rock: The San Diego Padres Are Responsible for the Worst Sports Songs Ever Written

Yes, even worse than Scott Stapp’s Marlins song. Lord forgive the parents who squandered their children’s chance for a normal life by subjecting them to this stuff.

Words: Nate Rogers

September 07, 2016

If you’re looking strictly at the numbers, the San Diego Padres (or the San Diego Dads, as they’re currently known on Wikipedia) haven’t been eliminated from playoff contention—but they’re already dead. The NL West’s most highly camouflaged team is twenty-one games back with twenty-four to go, in last place of one of the worst divisions in the league, and already moving past a fire-sale trade deadline where they threw in the towel on Matt Kemp, their big recent acquisition. It’s a good thing the team’s mascot is a clergyman, because Padres fans need God right now.

Of course, the Padres themselves aren’t cursed—there’s no Billy Goat or Bambino in their history, and if smug Dodgers fans like myself feel like giving them a hard time, they need only point to the fact that the last time they were in a World Series was 1998—but I’ve been doing some research, and I think I’ve found out what the source of their failure is. No, it’s not the management, and it’s not the players: it’s the music.

OK, so hear me out (literally). This saga goes back some time, but just to start, you actually might’ve caught wind of the Padres’ music department as recently as earlier this season, when they made headlines first for an…unfortunate…mix-up during a national anthem performance by the Gay Men’s Chorus, and second for hosting the debacle that was the Canadian Tenors’ All Lives Matter moment at the All-Star Game. As it turns out, those blunders were just the latest in a disturbing history of musical catastrophes, which I have dragged myself through in order to compile this comprehensive report.

Now, nothing will ever touch the pure audacity of Scott Stapp’s “You will suck” Marlins theme, but as far as pound-for-pound shittiness, this Padres stuff is the crème de la crème. Grab yourself a hefty wad of chew, gang. This is about to get rough.

Eric Show — “Padres Win Again”

1980s pitcher Eric Show was known for two things: being the guy who gave up Pete Rose’s 4,192nd hit (and not enjoying it), and, sadly, for being a troubled figure off the field. But one aspect of his Padres career that’s been overlooked is his musical contribution—namely, the less-than-prophetically-titled “blues” number “Padres Win Again.” Ultimately, the best part about this song is the dank 45 artwork, but believe it or not, Show’s handiwork is without a doubt the least terrible Padres song that I could find, so enjoy it.

Eddie Moore — “San Diego Padres Song”

This is the first song to come up when you search for “Padres songs” on YouTube, and let me tell you: that is a deeply unfortunate thing for the Padres organization—and for the city of San Diego as a whole. If cargo shorts had a sound, this would be it. (Pretty catchy, though, to be completely honest. Respect, Eddie Moore.)

Paul Cannon — “Homegrown (Padres Version)”

Lest you think that maybe I’m being a bit unfair and that for all I know the Padres might’ve gotten their act together in recent years, my response to that is, “no.” Or, more specifically, it’s that some guy named Paul Cannon was their musical representative at least as recently as 2013, which means that for an entire season fans were forced to look at this dude every time they won a game.

Chuck Schiele — “Let’s Go Padres”

OK, OK, this is it, everyone! I’ve saved the very best for last. This right here—this minute-long composition by Chuck Schiele titled “Let’s Go Padres”—is the worst song sports song I’ve ever heard. Basically, this is what Huey Lewis and the News would sound like if Huey Lewis worked at 7-Eleven. This is what the Chuck E. Cheese band would sound like if they came to life and took a bunch of speed. This, my friends, is what forty-eight years without a championship sounds like.