By Stuart Shea
How bad were the White Sox?
Three games worse than the Cubs.
Who played like shubdubs,
Like Triple-A subs,
Who made each day a gallery of flubs,
Those ridiculous bubs,
Who gave their fans the nubs,
Who drove those fans to local pubs,
To drown their sorrows in bad beer from huge tubs
And eat greasy deep-fried grub
That hardens their arteries like cigarette stubs
And makes them all fat.
The Sox were worse than that.
Published in Chicago Cubs, Chicago Cubs, Chicago White Sox, Chicago White Sox, Fans, Food, Free Verse, Players, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | 2 Comments