By Stu Shea
Sox lose,
More blues.
‘pen sucks,
Big bucks.
Old team,
Fans scream.
Fire Ken,
Start again.
Oz stays,
He’s crazed.
The Flight of Goose Gossage
by Sandy Marshall
Goose Gossage,
Goose Gossage,
You are your own Bossage,
You have your own mitt that you sign and Embossage.
Goose Gossage,
Goose Gossage,
You always will Flossage,
Your round rolling stone will ne’er gather no Mossage.
Goose Gossage,
Goose Gossage,
You boot up with DOSsage,
You always predict the results of coin Tossage.
Goose Gossage,
Goose Gossage,
Your car drives with Nossage,
And you play like you dance, like the winged Bob Fossage.
(Sandy’s site, with his comedy teammates: Schadenfreude.net)
Posted 8/3/07
Magglio’s Last Laugh
by James Finn Garner
When Kenny Williams told Maggs
To pack up his bags,
Hinting grit wasn’t one of his talents,
Kenny hadn’t the notion
That he’d set in motion
An era of Motown Magg-nificence.
Magglio got maligned
but later was signed
By Tiger whiz David Dombrowski.
Now he’s hitting like Gehrig,
While the White Sox are staring
over their shoulders, worried ’bout Kansas City.
Posted 7/25/07
Big Klu Viewed Through Lens of Blue
Biceps like well-tempered iron,
Frightening to see,
Was Ted Kluszewski.
No shirtsleeves wore he,
Did Ted Kluszewski.
And if you asked him why, he’d
Grind you into loose tea.
In his day he was feared,
The toughest man on the Ponderosa.
But today his muscles are matched
By Sammy Sosa
And Mark DeRosa.
“Hey There, Mark Buehrle”
(A love song inspired by Chicago’s very own Plain White T’s)
by John Renneke
Hey there, Mark Buehrle,
Don’t you go to New York City.
It’s one thousand miles away,
And Mark you throw your curve so pretty,
Yes you do,
Dice-K can’t shine as bright as you,
I swear it’s true,
Hey there, Mark Buehrle,
Don’t you worry about the distance,
We’ll make up the gap in no time,
Like LeBron against the Pistons.
Close your eyes.
Listen to my voice you’ll win the Cy,
And then we’ll cry
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
What you do to me.
Hey there, Mark Buehrle,
I know sometimes you’re hit hard,
But I believe in you to fight back
Like you do cuz you’re a star,
We’ll have it good,
We’ll beat the Cubs down like we should,
They aren’t that good.
Hey there, Mark Buehrle.
How I love to watch you play,
The way you get the ball and throw it
Whether at home or away.
You give it all,
No matter how far that we fall.
You give it all,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
Oh it’s what you do to me,
I know you grew up with the Cards,
but they’ve got Albert and other stars.
The south side’s where you’re loved the most by far.
Your friends may well make fun of you,
but we’ll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way.
Mark Buehrle, I can promise you
That by the time we get through,
The league will never ever be the same,
And you’re to blame.
Hey there, Mark Buehrle,
You be good and don’t be foolish.
Four more years and sixty million,
We’ll get back to making history like we do.
You’ll know it’s all because of you.
You can do whatever you want to.
Hey there, Mark Buehrle, here’s to you,
This ones for you.
Oh sign on the dotted line,
Oh sign on the dotted line,
Oh sign on the dotted line,
Oh sign on the dotted line,
On the dotted line.
7/5/07