by Hart Seely
The season’s dwindling like a fuse,
Like long-lost hopes for Philip Hughes,
That streak in May? T’was just a ruse.
Now A-Rod’s back:
Break out the boos.
We burned through Adams, Nix and Cruz,
Mere phantoms in the mainstream news.
Now nothing’s left, we’ve naught to lose,
Folks, A-Rod’s back:
Break out the boos.
We diehard fans don’t get to choose
How far to walk within these shoes.
Our loyalties we won’t excuse,
We have no right to sing the blues.
Friends, A-Rod’s back:
Break out the boos.
For an overdose of Yankee schadenfreude, check out Hart’s blog, It is High, It is Far, It is . . . Caught.