Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Michael Cuddyer
Might hit the ball higher
On the moon, which has thinner air
Than Denvair.
Dustin Pedroia
Suffers from paranoia.
Though he doesn’t dislike him,
He’s sure the base runner wants to spike him.
Yoenis Cespedes
Doesn’t need us.
He keeps his cool by hitting homers
And ignoring racist tweets from gomers.
Miguel Cabrera
At the plate is a terra.
He’ll win a second Triple Crown
With his mates in Motown.
We live in the era
Of Mariano Rivera,
Which will serve to measure historic flow:
Dates will henceforth be noted either BMo or AMo (Before or After Mo).
Edwin Encarnacion
Handles his first base stacion
With skill and bravado
That is the toast of Canado.
Hernandez (Felix)
Somewhere in his DNA’s double helix
Has a velocity gene,
Thus his fastball is never seen.
Hiroshi Iwakuma,
According to ruma,
Pitches well in the state of Washington,
But I’m in bed before their games are done.
Joe Mauer
Has no need to feel dour.
He’ll get a trip to the Big Apple for frees
Without having to play the Yankees.
Jason Castro
Is the lone Astro.
He brings Bigfoot to mind
As the sole representative of his kind.
Bartolo Colon
Doesn’t climb the mound alone.
He relies on his teammates, and God,
And Big Pharma supporting his ancient bod.
Freddie Freeman
Must be some kind of he-man.
He’ll play in New York instead of Puig.
Too bad that now, I don’t give a fuig.
The lineup in Texas is loaded,
Most bullpens they face look corroded
The men on the mound
just can’t pitch around
and soon find that their bats have exploded.
If Bud Selig were alive todays
He’d take some action on the Oakland A’s.
They want to move down south a ways
To escape the Giants’ hold on the Bay.
So why not let the Athletics go,
And draw the well-heeled from Palo Alto?
It’s not as if O.Co is more than so-so,
And they’d love gold and green down in Los Gatos.