Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Could have been the jingle
of his name that led him
to the banking game.
But then again, he was
“Chet Thrift” with runs
back in fifty-one
When his ERA was lowest
in the Senior Circuit —
his winning mark
just a tad higher
than prime!
Posted 10/19/07
Say hey, Willie! Say hey!
Your god-boy Barry is a true filly when it comes to being the next king of swat,
But it won’t matter much, ‘coz he lost his touch, once he started fillin’ up on THE JUICE.
Just like Sammy Sosa and young Mark McGwire, whose Louisvilles were on fire in that great summer of ’98, setting’ new swat records, fillin’ up on THE JUICE.
But THE JUICE is a noose and it only gets tighter, makes the swinger a
singer all the way to the bank, year after year after year, which is until THE JUICE starts to fizz
And the smacking goes to intermittent rain delays down on the field that so many play-by-play color-men describe as “dismal.”
But it’s no matter, Willie, for this boy is your pride and joy, and his greatness will never cause you fatigue.
Still.
Eyebrows will be raised across the league,
The young and the old will debate.
Ruth vs. Aaron, vs. Bonds vs. Mantle vs. Gehrig vs. Sosa vs. McGwire vs. A-Rod vs. any other future famer that is still left intact after they’ve had THE JUICE.
All seems so iffy if you ask me (but you don’t).
So.
Say hey, Willie! Say hey!
There will come the day when THE JUICE will dry up and blow away and all those swingers will age prematurely and become arthritic cripples and bent and lame in their retirement,
Just like you did sadly, dear Willie,
Just like you, without THE JUICE.
Posted 10/17/07
by James Finn Garner
500
Is such an exquisite digit–
The miles in a Daytona race,
Fortune‘s biggest firms anyplace,
And Fiat’s postwar car-midget.
500
The dingers hit by “Big Hurt” Frank,
Of the sweet stroke and bitter knees,
A-Rod, whipping boy for the Yankees,
And Thome, svelte as a Sherman tank.
500
Their several teams never captured it all.
The sluggers pushed on in good years and bad,
Taking what pleasure there was to be had
In campaigns of .500 ball.
500!
Carved into history like Cy Nostradamus.
As Father Time erodes, hobbles and tames,
That mark will always shine next to these names.
500 cheers for Thome, Rodriguez and Thomas!
Posted 10/16/07
by Tom LaTourette
Posted 10/14/07
Heroes to Zeroes
by Courtney Smith
The Cubs used to be my heroes,
But now they’re big fat zeroes.
We say, “Playoffs, here we come!”
But playoffs they’ve never won,
Except in 1908.
Other than that, it’s not their fate.
Strike one, strike two, strike three–yer out!
It’s the Cubs, without a doubt.
Go, Cubs, Gone!
By Keenan Feller
Go, Cubs, Gone!
They lost their game,
They make me yawn.
They lost their fame.
I said, “Oh hey”
When I heard their name,
And now I say,
“Oh, what a shame.”
How sad it is
To be a fan.
The playoffs ended in a whiz.
Oh gee, aww man.
I thought this year,
“Oh yes they can.”
Again you hear,
“Oh gee, aww man.”
So now they blew it.
Their season’s drawn.
I really thought they could do it,
But I guess I was wrong.
It’s not a good way
That their season’s gone.
So what do ya say…
Go, Cubs, Gone.
Posted 10/12/07