by James Finn Garner
Before the Fall gets underway,
Let us doff our caps and say
Goodbye to those who’ll junk their cleats,
Leave the park and walk the streets.
Super-versatile Angel Chone
Will now be the utility man at home.
Grant Balfour, hothead Aussie,
Can only fume when his wife gets bossy.
Phil Humber’s vaunted perfect game
Was his sole stat worth noting (such a shame).
The Prince has trouble with his neck–
He’ll inspire no more fear on-deck.
Tex and A-Rod will leave the Yanks
And all their fans will mumble thanks,
While Raf Soriano has called an end
To tell war stories, a fine fireman.
But let’s not forget the other guys,
Young tyros once, with starry eyes,
Who gave their all but somehow missed
The general manager’s call-up list.
They’re just as key to the game as any
Adam LaRoche or Brad Penny.
Talent, drive and dreams they bid,
Just like us when we were kids.
No matter what anyone says–
Denies ever sharing a tanning booth
With Dr. Ruth.
Is fond of the movies,
Especially those that feature
Sulks and pouts.
As the sole Angel, he doesn’t get very far
With his funny imitation of Yunel Escobar.
Has always been so pissed
At being last alphabetically
That he takes his revenge athletically.
by Hilary Barta
Spring Training is over, hey, hey
And the Cubs play their first game away
That fact isn’t strange
But can’t they arrange
To start without interleague play?
Hilary Barta provides limericks and giggles everyday at his site, LimerWrecks.
By Stuart Shea
Always a good story . . .
With your amazing catches,
Your religious dispatches,
Your homers and doubles,
Your OBP troubles.
You don’t like gay marriage,
But you don’t have to get one,
And I hope you enjoy the rest of your life,
With your kids and your wife.