Lyrics: ALF: The score was six and a half to nothing on the bouillabaseball field that day. The Litwhack Chowders were winning and the sky was a greenish gray. But when they saw me coming all of Melmac yelled, "Hooray!" (CROWD: Boo! Get rid of the rube!) ALF: They knew their luck was changing. It was ALFer's turn to play. Did I crack under pressure? Did I buckle under his knuckler? Not Gordon Shumway I turned to the roaring crowd and I said, Take me, ALF, to the ballgame. Now it's my turn to bat. It's my favorite of all games and I'll knock this scuttminder flat. Lob a couple of fishheads Yikes! ALF: Strike? ALF: