By The Village Elliott
The verdict resounded
When gavel was pounded,
And Great Score Keeper settled the score,
“Made move that confounded,
Lost game that astounded;
Billy Beane’s reputation’s no more.”
Lower the Jolly Roger
By Stuart Shea
These Pirates played with spirit,
Didn’t fear it,
Threw inside,
Didn’t hide,
Played like a team.
Up-the-middle guys made a difference,
And good defense,
But last night they didn’t pitch or hit
For shit.
So endeth the dream.
An Elegy to Knuckleheads
By Stuart Shea
The F***in’ A’s are history.
How did this thing come to be?!?
A four-run lead in the eighth
And a rested bullpen at the ready.
Sometimes, teams just fall apart.
The Royals showed a lot of heart,
And came back over and over again
After Lester’s gutsy start.
What does it mean for Billy Beane?
His free-agent pitchers will leave the scene,
The farm system decimated,
Times might get pretty lean.
So let’s salute these crazy A’s,
In these darkening Autumn days,
Their brand of insanity so much a part
Of the Bay Area’s humid summer haze.
Reddick and Crisp, Fuld and Gomes,
Brought joy to so many Oakland homes,
Lester, Donaldson, Doolittle, Vogt,
Their season stolen by base-thieving gnomes.