Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Home field advantage — it means
A lot. So does heart. Right now,
The difference between the two
May be measured in intangibles —
Not measurables — and quirks
Of the game. This series … it may go
The distance — like two heavyweights
Who circle each other, mixing skill
And brute force, and each waiting….
A far cry from the slack days of Banks
Simply for that, the faithful give thanks
Repeat dreams grow black
This year’s a throwback
It looks like the Dodgers and Yanks
Ancient history:
Primitive man used a club
So do both these teams
The legend lives on
From the Bambino on down
Of the team that folds like a patsy
The Fens, it said,
Always throws up its dead
When the winds of November come early
The Sox were the pride
Of the MLB side
With a team that was certain to win it
A roster so sweet
That they let the boys cheat
And said scarcely a word ag’in it
They had Sale on the mound
And Price who would pound
Any old man who dared to offend him
And Porcello who
You knew would come through
And too many others to mention
The outfield was young
Their praises were sung
Above all the Babe Benintendi
They did a cute dance
And around they would prance
When the team it won so bigly
They were handed the East
Which was the least
MLB could do for their story
Then they’d run through the ‘Stros
And the bows and arrows
And go straight to the Series and glory
But Nuni’s knee gave
Then their main Sale caved
And the Olde Towne Team was hurtin’
Then Pomeranz fell
And Kimbrel went to hell
And another big choke, it was lurkin’
Does any man know
Where the love of God goes
When the hits turn the innings to hours?
I adore the playoffs
When the season’s on the line
Mistakes a bit more tragic
Nice plays near divine
Veterans get one last lap
And rookies get to shine
I only wish they hadn’t made me
Hate “Sweet Caroline”