By Stuart Shea
Jake’s pretty tough–
He has no-hit stuff
Each time he goes out to play.
It’s hard to countenance,
But giving him a chance
Just wasn’t the Oriole way.
Playoff Letter to The Yankees
by Stephen Jones
Dear Yankees: You’d better grasp
Your playoff circumstance.
With just a month to play,
It’s time for you to seize the day.
The games you should have won
Now haunt you. Are you done?
Wake up offense! Shake off slumber!
Hello team . . . it’s now September.
Yours truly, and all the rest . . .
But you’d better put out your best.
P.S.: Otherwise, it’s game over –
And a sad end for Derek Jeter.
Full-on Collapse, Rhyming Dictionary Edition, Part 2
By Stu Shea
Do the Milwaukee Brewers
Belong in the sewers?
When beer goes flat
It’s done, like that.
Their April divine,
The summer just fine,
But when it’s a crunch,
The team’s gone to lunch.
Jints Leapfrog is Dead
by the Village Elliott
Jints fans cheered first game, won nine to none,
“Sweep next two, leapfrog Bums, they is done!”
.    But next 19 runs said,
.    “Jints blanked leapfrog is dead,
Doubt Kershaw will lose final one.”
Full-on Collapse, Rhyming Dictionary Edition, Part 1
by Stu Shea
It’s most un-Athletic
To play so pathetic.
I’m quite empathetic,
But it ain’t copacetic
To lose one’s aesthetic
And become an emetic.
Perhaps a prosthetic
Would cure this pandemic,
Or maybe just someone who can hit a fsckin’ baseball.