Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
The cosmos is f’rever expanding
The sun in its course never wavers
In Giza, the pyramid’s still standing
But Paul Konerko’s put on waivers.
DaVinci’s genius is enduring
Mozart’s work all cultures savor
After years, Garbo is still alluring
But Paul Konerko’s put on waivers.
The planet spinning on its axis
A schoolyard full of little shavers
Some things last, like death and taxes,
Yet Paul Konerko’s put on waivers.
He’s not as bad as the Black Sox,
Is A-Rod, no matter the spin.
He may be a fool, a doper, a jag,
But at least he was trying to win.
When Yu’re slinging goose eggs on the board
With yur slider zipping like Zorro’s sword
.     The last thing Yu need
.     Is for Pierzynski to plead
In a way that the ump deems untoward.
In this tired story fueled, it seems,
by personal and institutional greed,
will suspension clear the smoke?
HGH and PEDs, the fiery secret
formula lurking hidden in MLB . . . then
one astute comment is its equation:
“Average talent becomes good,
good talent becomes great, and
great talent reaches the Hall of Fame.”
(In the past, the tightrope dance between
denial and admission seemed to mirror baseball –
where business often outweighed the game.)
But not this time: the list of the alleged is
too long, the evidence too compelling. MLB
will clean house, Selig will have his legacy.
To note: Braun may get his money, so may
others to be named. But Hall of Fame status
is unreachable . . . and no asterisk need apply.
line drive–
a plague
of baserunners
exterminated–
heal of the glove