Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Yes, the Braves right now
Are the best team in baseball,
And yes, the Yankees are riding
An historic implosion this season,
And yes [painfully, so painfully
If you’re a Yankee fan],
The three “games” were ugly.
But despite the doom and gloom,
There was a silver lining —
Michael Kay calling the game,
And David Cone and Paul O’Neil
Adding insightful, humorous
Commentary. The trio made this
Downward Yankees’ slide palatable.
The theatrical Yankees skip Boone
Had an act that made the crowds swoon:
Scratch a line in the sand,
Make an “Outta here!” stance,
And the rags say he’s the new Tommy Tune!
It seemed at the dawn of the year
That our starters were something to fear.
Cole, Rodon, Nestor, Sevi —
Our staff was ace-heavy.
Now we wish we had back JP Sears.
Gerrit Cole is the team’s only ace.
Twenty wins? He is close to the pace.
But when he gets a bad call,
The next pitch clears the wall.
You can tell by the look on his face.
The deal for Rodon really sucks.
Often injured, he still got the bucks.
It made him quite rich.
Maybe one day he’ll pitch.
Our front office is run by a schmuck.
Like Tiant and Bartolo Colon,
No one knew what pitch Nestor was thow’n.
Hitters no longer have doubt.
Did they figure him out?
Or was his greatness overblown?
When not hurt, Luis can pitch great.
But often, it’s not worth the wait.
Something’s always off.
What’s next? Whooping cough?
At what point do we just cut bait?
They’re both number fives, this is true.
Forced to pitch like they were one or two.
Sure, we got a perfecto . . .
Also, lots of dreckto.
So, let’s see what Brito can do.
For Frankie we gave up a ton
To land our second number one.
But our hopes are gone, oh!
He’s another Pavano
Who throws off flat ground just for fun.
These lims first appeared on the indispensable Yankee blog, It is High, It is Far, It is … caught.
Domingo Germán was in trouble,
His baseball life on the bubble.
His last two outings had been
ERs of 8 and 10,
The tabloids were blaring in his ears
“Off with his head!” and other smears,
And frankly, he didn’t know if and when
He’d be on the mound again.
But this all changed on a Wednesday night
When, in Oakland, he got it right
With a curveball that was unhittable
And a demeanor that was unflappable.
The result: a perfect game, number
Twenty-four in baseball’s history-ledger.
The American League East
Is a self-eating beast
With no team below .500.
And the way these teams go,
As they consume one another,
It does make me wonder:
When the regular season
Is finally over
And the dust has settled,
It’s possible — it just may be —
That the last one on this list
Of baseball carnivores
May still get a wild card berth.