Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
By Stuart Shea
Winter 2007-08
Contention required,
A pennant desired.
Santana, admired,
For a fortune is hired.
Spring 2007-08
The team, uninspired,
At .500 is mired.
Carlos Beltran is tired,
But the sports talk hosts wired.
June 17
Willie Randolph is fired.
Posted 6/17/08
by Grantland Rice
That poet did me dirty, for the mucker failed to say
A word about the pitcher “spitting” on the ball that day;
I remember well I saw him stick his fingers to his tongue,
He fired one at my noodle and it dropped below my lung.
I couldn’t soad the bloomin’ ball because it didn’t curve,
It zig-zagged from my head to knees so fast I lost my nerve,
And not only did it tiake me completely by surprise,
But I was half way blinded when the “spray” flew in my eyes.
“Hully gee,” says I in wonder, “that’s curvin’ ’em a few,”
You see it was the first “spitball” a pitcher ever threw;
I’d been against this bloke before and put him in the air,
But when the spitball butted in–well, Casey wasn’t there.
And that’s why in old Mudville the bands refused to play,
And that’s why hearts were heavy in place of being gay,
And also whey the children refused to cheer and shout,
But the spitball, not the pitcher, struck the mighty Casey out.
Quoted in Crazy ’08 by Cait Murphy
By George Castle
Once a year, the Sox fans bring their pooches in,
which is better than a plague of frogs.
But the canines had to take the place of winning ball
‘Cause Chicago’s bullpen went to the dogs.
Posted 6/14/08
By James Finn Garner
(With abject apologies to William Blake)
Tygers, Tygers, choking bad,
When champeens we thought we had.
What possessed the baseball scribes
To pick you o’er Sox and Tribe?
In Florida, Dombrowski–
Did he smile his work to see?
Aging bats and unproved arms,
With slim pickin’s on the farm.
Why’s Dontrelle in Single A?
Why does Clevlen get to play?
What turned Edgar Renteria
A defense gaffe-eteria?
Who knew, alone, Cabrera
Would revive th’ Dead Ball Era?
Will you become a stalker
If Sheffield gets a walker?
Tygers, Tygers, sucking wind,
We know fate has not been kind.
With Rodney and Zoom-Zoom back–
Watch out! Middle of the pack!
Posted 6/12/08Â
By Stuart Shea
One little piece of skin,
The size of a child’s little finger,
Can bring a big man down.
The pain will linger
for David Ortiz,
For at least three weeks.
He’s in a cast…geez.
Like a mouse to an elephant,
A torn tendon sheath
Doesn’t sound significant
But to a guy
Who depends on his wrists
It’s a poke in the eye
And a full-arm cast
And a lot of sitting.
How long the pain will last
Is not clear…
But it could go all year.
Posted 6/10/08