Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
All night in my bedroom I tossed,
Excited a line has been crossed.
Although dazed and confused
And half-crazed, I’m excused:
The Cubbies have won more than lost.
Hilary Barta draws for Sponge-Bob and Garbage Pail Kids comix, and also runs the noir limerick site LimerWrecks.
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In The Land of the Second Chance,
Remorseful A-Rod did repentance,
Will not be going to Cincinnati.
Few will shed tears about this, most likely,
But truth be told–he served his time.
Reality is: He’s passed his prime.
Now it’s marquee time . . . for Harper, for Trout.
And A-Rod? He’s simply lost his clout.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I’d change how I chose All-Star team.
I’d choose again All-Stars from when
First penciled my name in my dream:
If I could change the All-Star Game,
Would be announced by Dizzy Dean.
He pitched on those still-broken toes,
And knows what All-Star Game could mean.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I believe I’d start Carl Hubbell,
Then Babe Ruth, next Lou, “Double-X”,
Simmons, Cronin — ain’t no trouble.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I’d choose “Old Red Head”, Stan “the Man,”
For extra inning- roommates’ winning-
Home runs, as we’ve seen they both can.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I’d say: “Say Hey, hey, lets play two!
Show NL’s pride to other side;
Two All-Star Games, both made for you.”
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I’d pick Reginald Martinez.
With his power, hits light tower.
“He slugged it like Roy Hobbs,” Diz sez.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
I’d choose my angel, Freddie Lynn.
With three on, wham, hits lone grand slam,
To Atlee Hammaker’s chagrin.
If I could change the All-Star Game,
For my final contribution,
Again play game for pride and fame,
Not World Series distribution.
Michiganders have their summer back.
No need to grumble, curse or frown!
There’s oodles to do, from Monroe to Mighty Mac
Now that Cabrera’s gone down.
Don’t bother watching the Tiges on TV,
Get out and paint the town.
I hear Lapeer has a new Applebee’s.
Forget that Cabrera’s gone down.
Experience Celery Days in Saginaw!
Paddle ’round Zug Island–now less brown!
Savor what passes for wine in Paw Paw!
Who cares Cabrera’s gone down?
Visit your great-aunt in Lansing.
Shoot a biopic of Milky the Clown.
Take up 18th-century ballroom dancing,
Now that Cabrera’s gone down.
Watch reenactors fight that war we don’t remember
Drive nine hours to a Yooper ghost town
Explore the Mitten til school starts in September
And forget that Cabrera’s gone down.
Never got to see
Parc Jarry.
Ebbets and the Polo Grounds
Remained unfound.
Forbes Field
To me unrevealed.
But I did run with glee
Through old Comiskey
And Tiger Stadium
Was like a palladium
And Milwaukee County
An endless bounty.
Dank, damp, and rusty,
Outmoded and fusty,
But to me much more fun
Than Wrigley, say, has become.