Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
by David Bellel
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Birds flying low, you know how I feel,
Three-hit Cano, you know how I feel,
Ten wins in a row, you know how I feel,
It’s another o-misplay
It’s a crucial CC K
It’s a Rivera save
For Yanks,
And I’m feeling good.
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Check out David’s Yankee blog, Pseudo-Intellectualism.
Posted 6/30/10
by David Bellel
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Happy Halladay, happy Halladay
While the homer balls keep soaring,
May your ev’ry wish come true.
Happy Halladay, happy Halladay
May the hitless Phils keep bringing
Happy Halladays to you.
Come To Halladay Inn.
If you’re burdened down with groin pulls
If your catchers are wearing thin
Park your load with the trainer
And come to Halladay Inn.
If the lack of bench affects you
Like a squeaky violin
Kick some Phillie butt and then strut
And come to Halladay Inn.
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You can keep up with David on his blog, Pseudo-Intellectualism.
Posted 6/18/10
by David Bellel
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Hey, hey, A-rod, eyes of blue
What’s cookin with you?
Your power went away like the birds that flew
My power lost, that’s just not true
Got me a new hammer-on
With new Camer-on
Though some may wonder
That yellow still makes me hyper-vent
There’s a different pep
For this studly gent
New package
New flavor
New formula, too
Just give it time
Soon balls will climb
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Check out the rest of David’s Yankee musings at his blog Pseudo-Intellectualism.
Posted 6/9/2010
by Hart Seely
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That’s great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes,
an aeroplane – Mariano’s not afraid…
Eiland in a hurricane, Joba going down the drain,
A-Rod serves his own needs, Swisher with his prayer beads.
Johnson saying bye-bye, CC throws: IT IS HIGH…
Batters start to clatter, Johnny Damon, what’s the matter, deep in Cashman’s heart,
Wire in a fire, A.J. Burnett in a mire, a Granderson for hire and a Chan Ho fart.
Uh oh, no Cano; Vazquez – no go; Mitre can’t throw, so says Alphonso, in a combat start.
You vitriolic, patriotic, Pedroia paranoia, slam, fight, bright light, feeling Redsock psyched, bean Youk? RIGHT!
It’s the end of the world as we know it.
It is high, it is far, and we know it.
It’s the end of the world as we know it… and it is gone.
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Hart Seely is the chief cook and bottle washer at the Yankee blog, It Is High, It Is Far, It Is…..caught.
Posted 6/1/10
by David Bellel
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A rook went back to NY City
Because Winns’ play was pure chicanery
Thames takes chances and Jorg got bonged
And in a minute, he’s righted wrong
Hey, Russo! Russo Italiano!
Hey, Russo! Russo Italiano!
Go, go, go, you mixed up Sicialiano (or Neapolitano)
All you calabraise-a hit the ball like-a crazy with-a
Hey, Russo! There’s no more Yogi Berra
Hey Russo! No more that Scooter fella
Hey, Russo! Russo Italiano!
Try an enchilada with da fish-a bac-a-lab and then-a
Hey goombah, I love a how you hits go boombah
But take a some advice, paisano
From A-Rod, your new found bro:
Get some dates with Kate
It will power every at-plate
Hey, Russo! Russo Italiano!
Hey, Russo! Russo Italiano!
Go, go, go you mixed up Sicialiano (or Neapolitano)
All you calabraise-a hit the ball like a crazy!
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You can find more of David’s musings on the Yankees at his blog, Pseudo-Intellectualism.
Posted 5/28/2010