Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Before nary a pitch had been thrown
One would swear that the outcome was known
To elude Detroit’s ace
Would be shrewd–no disgrace
And when e’er you can’t win, you postpone.
Though of rain, not a drip had yet dropped,
‘Fore the game even started they stopped
Of a squall not a trace,
But was called “Justn” case,
While the Sox the division still topped.
Hilary Barta publishes limericks on movies, monsters and pop culture every day at LimerWrecks.
Tis true, yes I have seen it with my own blue eyes
My husband never tans, you see, no matter how he tries
His head and neck and arms were sacrificed for love
Yes, for the White Sox, a simple bat and ball and glove
His skin doth glow like a red hot coal, his burn is living proof
Dear god, why didn’t you stand under the upper deck roof?
Buy some sunscreen or a hat, or maybe ask to borrow?
No, he suffered silently and will pay the price tomorrow.
Basepaths clogged with Twins
Stacking runs in bins
White Sox nursing chins
Barbara is the author, among other books, of Jack and Larry: Jack Graney and Larry, the Cleveland Baseball Dog, a true story told in verse. You can get it from Amazon here.
I’m Jeff Baker, and I’ve got a role
Hitting left-handers is what I do.
Plug me into any old hole,
And I’ll hit .300–but field that, too.
Try me at third, or left, or right,
My glove is decent but I don’t move well.
My bat drags heavy, though my salary’s light,
And I wish that I had more to sell.
But hitting those southpaws gets me a gig–
I’ve already graced three teams this year!
With a bit more skill, my salary would be big,
But sometimes I’m just glad to be here.
Pierzynski’s older, get that straight
A few more grey hairs on the dome
But if no one bothers to cover the plate
That sonofabitch will steal home.
You may have Cespedes at third–
All over the infield he’ll roam–
But if you don’t keep Pierzynski close, my word!
That sonofabitch will steal home.
Humans can map the vastness of space,
Find Higgs-Boson, map the genome,
But if a player can’t cover his base,
Some sonofabitch will steal home.
Too busy to stay after class?
Here’s the lesson to take from this poem:
Stand around gawking with your thumb up your ass
And that sonofabitch will steal home.