Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
by Stu Shea
How can a man like Dmitri Young
Show such talent at bat?
He’s built like a jumbo marshmallow sundae
Topped by a tiny toy hat.
Of course, Babe Ruth was no Adonis,
And Mike LaValliere made his rounds.
Smokey Burgess, Ernie Lombardi,
Both weighed at least 500 pounds.
But in an age of hGH and “vitamin shots,”
It’s nice to see a guy like Young
Do so well with the physique he’s got.
When he lets it all hang, it’s fat that’s hung.
Posted 9/14/2007
by James Finn Garner
The Central race is shaping up, but nobody had reckoned
The Brewers, Cubs and Redbirds in a three-way race for second.
The pitching ranks as adequate, if no one pulls up lame.
The hitting has shown promise and can sometimes win a game.
But the bullpens can’t be trusted, and defensive play is worse.
It’s hard to jump a bandwagon that looks just like a hearse.
Come on, guys, we know you dream of golf and going fishin’.
But the rules are clear–they state SOMEONE must win the division.
Posted 9/13/07
A handspring
A handspring
A double backflip,
That’s Ozzie Smith for ya,
Now watch the hits rip!
St. Louis
St. Louis
A loyal shortstop,
That’s Ozzie Smith for ya,
He’ll land at the top!
Our favorite
Our favorite
Our regular guy,
That’s Ozzie Smith for ya,
Monsieur RBI!
A triple
A triple
A rock & roll riff,
That’s Ozzie Smith for ya,
He’ll steal in a jif!
Posted 9/12/07
By Stu Shea
Hunter Pence is intense
When he climbs the fence
Or knocks a high fastball right out of its stents.
The ‘Stros really stink
But already fans think
That Pence is the way to get out of the drink.
Without Hunter Pence
They’d fold up their tents—
Sans Pence, Houston’s Astros ain’t worth but two cents.
Posted 9/11/2007.
(Our apologies to Steve Perry and Journey)
(To hear a recording of this, go to The Beechwood Reporter.)
Just a baseball club, known as the Chicago Cubs,
They haven’t won anything since 1908.
It’s like their fate is sealed, playing there in Wrigley Field.
Fans pray and wait in vain since 1908.
Ivy growing on the outfield walls,
Fans pee in horse troughs, they’ve got no stalls,
“Eamus Catuli,” it says there in right,
The years go on and on and on and on…
Cub fans drinking, all around the Friendly Confines,
Yuppies stumbling in the night,
Bleachers, hot chicks living for inebriation,
Showing great sets of ta-taaaas…
Lou’s kicking dirt all over the place, Zambrano’s punching Barrett’s face,
Hendry paid millions for this year’s team – results will be the same.
For a few short days, they’re in first,
But don’t you know these Cubs are cursed?
Wait till next year never ends,
It goes on and on and on and on…
D-Lee, fighting, couldn’t land his girly punches,
Don’t give Ryan Dempster the ball,
Right quad, Soriano – our heartbreak just around the corner,
Santo still waits for the halllllll…
Please stop believin’
And wake up from your dreaming,
Lovable losers,
They’re the Cubs!
Please stop believin’
For 100 seasons,
“It’s gonna happen”? Who you crapping?
They’re the Cubs!
Posted 9/9/07