Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
So now, my friends, it’s come to this:
To redeem his chances for the Hall,
Ol’ Roger’s gone to deepest Texas,
Donned his jock and grabbed the ball
To show all pipsqueaks with the gall
To hint his chemistry’s amiss
That the wickedest PED of all
Is simply Lone Star, vinegar and piss.
Like a plummeting piece of space junk
The ‘Stros have flamed out like a punk.
The past six weeks they have stunk
Worse than a flatulent skunk.
When they switch to the AL next year,
Houston will have still more to fear.
They’d best get their rear ends in gear
Before AL pitchers pin back their ears.
Safeco perfection
The Mariner’s King Felix
His game historic
He shut them down, the Rangers –
a powerhouse lineup of bats –
with split-finger’d sinkers, sliders
& mound presence. He was that:
Seamless with steady outs
pitching quality throughout,
while the Yankee dugout
made it with lineup clout.
Pierzynski’s older, get that straight
A few more grey hairs on the dome
But if no one bothers to cover the plate
That sonofabitch will steal home.
You may have Cespedes at third–
All over the infield he’ll roam–
But if you don’t keep Pierzynski close, my word!
That sonofabitch will steal home.
Humans can map the vastness of space,
Find Higgs-Boson, map the genome,
But if a player can’t cover his base,
Some sonofabitch will steal home.
Too busy to stay after class?
Here’s the lesson to take from this poem:
Stand around gawking with your thumb up your ass
And that sonofabitch will steal home.