I might take over the world, or I just pass the butter, I'll fix your grammar, and operate on your grandma

These players are among the first to arrive at Spring Training, bringing their tools of ignorance. The pitchers need them to be able to get their own work in. Have you gotten my drift?

The proverbial shelter on deserted islands, I’m a little word. Tutt-tutt!

Shapeless picture in a printed frame, I’m broken on purpose, yet whole all the same. Edges and islands in cardboard seas, You’ll tame my chaos by slow degrees. Corners are prophets, the border my cage, The middle’s a maze on a paper stage.

I stand where wild blue waters shout, A glowing eye that scans about. Through storm and fog, I guard the coast, A silent guide for every host. By day, I’m stone and shadowed height, By night, I blaze with warning light. I never move, yet lead the way, Saving lost souls night and day.