Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Braves
“The Braves will be good”???
…what I like about the South
Is its humility
Marlins
Oh, Giancarlo,
Is 300 mil enough
To stand Loria?
Mets
It was a bright day
When the Wheel fell off the cart
Leaving three good ones
Phillies
Men with few assets
Should not bargain as if they
Can afford to wait
Nationals
The young man acts young;
His elders, who know better,
Lecture and complain
Matheny loves vets, it is ever so clear,
But picking up Masterson was certainly queer.
So, uh, now Lackey! who used to strike fear,
But these days looks irked and needs him a beer.
The death of Taveras, and Heyward’s in right
To force Grichuk to fight for a spot every night,
While Wacha and Jaime return to the fight
Just in time — I tell you, the division’s a fright!
A little boy in St. Louis for the three runs at the World Series in the 1960s, Alan’s love of the Cardinals was cemented by the nightmare of moving to Mets territory in ’69. These days he’s married to a Cards fan he met in the land of the Giants, is raising two ball-playing boys with hair longer than Ted Simmons ever had, and teaches Sociology at Central Michigan University.
While it’s coming, the day’s drawing near
Where’s a Bum ‘sposed to station his rear?
Though the bleachers ain’t done,
Cheers to each sodden one:
Don’t be glum! There’s no rationing beer!
Astros
Unpronounceable,
The Opening Day starter—
It’s Dallas Keuchel!
Angels
The favorite son—
Prodigal again errant—
Setting in the West
Athletics
Old southpaws don’t die
Until they’ve had a chance to
Make the A’s roster
Mariners
A strong-armed fellow
Will bear the expectations
Of the great northwest
Rangers
A once-proud franchise
Sliding down the Banister,
Into pool or pile?
White Sox
Eaton, a Danish,
And fans hungry for more than
Just a few churros
Indians
Can we just bury
That nickname somewhere out by
Bad Knee ligament?
Tigers
‘15 may see a
Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright—
If Verlander’s back
Royals
Sudden royalty
Must beware of slipping back
Toward the commoners
Twins
Hometown hero Paul
Will learn that spring is full of hope
And buds that don’t bloom