It took no time for Yu Darvish
To find the knack for U.S. hitters.
His April’s been quite close to marv-ish,
A barbecue of forks and splitters.

Hey Yu, take care through summer’s grind,
Of your trainers’ words be heedful,
Cuz Dallas’ heat can melt the mind
And Texas chili’s lethal.

Came out of high school, stayed in Texas awhile
Seems he just couldn’t make it all seem worthwhile
He’s movin’ on. He’s movin’ on.
Rangers said “So long son, go enjoy the sun”
He’s Marlin gone.

Minor leagues kept trading, kept cutting him loose
Never was the engine, just a little caboose
Seven years rolled on, they just moved on.
Finally majored a run in 2000 and 1
Would they keep him on?

Another year came and another deal too,
Milwaukee got him in 2002,
He still moved on, he was there and gone.
Led the league in base steals, tried to keep it real,
But they moved him on.

Chicago was home for a few good years
Got a World Series ring, a girl with bunny ears,
He’s carryin’ on, maybe he’ll stay on.
But another year came, and another ball game,
He packed and was gone.

Up in the mountains, till 2009,
Back to bat that year in the White Sox line,
Another movin’ on, another hometown gone.
Even though he had fans, Chicago had other plans
And they let him move on.

One year with the Royals, still stealing some base,
Let him go to the Dodgers, problems slowing his pace.
Trouble movin’ on, released and on his own.
Try up North, play the West, half-a-year at best
So he’s movin’ on.

Finally landed in Philly, more like Lackawanna
Scranton doesn’t really sound like baseball nirvana.
Will he be movin’ on?  Sing that travelin’ song?
Thirteen teams, eighteen years, Hard to change your gears
And keep movin’ on.

Jamie Moyer, long of tooth,
Nabs a win at 49.
Never pitched to ol’ Babe Ruth
But babysat him one time.

Michael X. Ferraro is a TV writer/producer and author of Numbelievable: The Dramatic Stories Behind the Most Memorable Numbers in Sports History and Tased & Amused: The Shocking Poetic Recap of the 2010 Baseball Season.

LOS ANGELES ANGELS OF ANAHEIM ETC.
Albert doesn’t want
Us to call him “The Man,” so
Let’s call him “The Bank.”

OAKLAND ATHLETICS
Manny is Manny.
Elderly is elderly.
Money is wasted.

SEATTLE MARINERS
The only thing worse
Than hitting Ichiro first
Is hitting him third

TEXAS RANGERS
Media outrage
Over Josh Hamilton’s life?
A pile of cow turds

Late autumn brings damp and rain;
The baseball season is over again.
The Redbirds were soaring;
Their fans were roaring.
And Texas went home empty-handed.

The holidays and new year’s come,
Bringing dreams of series rings to everyone.
The hot stoves start burning,
With free agent yearning,
And revulse at the salaries commanded.

Spring brings tulips and green grass.
Training and opening day are here at last.
Northern fans bundle for the game,
Southern weather is a lot more tame.
And all hope to catch a foul single-handed.

The late Samuel Henry Donham (a college and semi-pro first baseman whose career ended in injury, and later a junior high baseball coach) instilled a love of baseball in his family, including his daughter-in-law Becky. She is a longtime Cubs fan whose faith is wavering.

Was that Tony La Russa after all?
The glasses look right. I don’t know the eyes.
Was that a slider? Changeup? Or curveball?
Perhaps this would be a good place for wise

Commentators to…maybe…commentate.
They keep silent, cutaway to the same
Fan–wedding ring, hair dyed, breath quick to bate–
That they have been showing throughout the game.

Give me the details that I could not hear;
The red glove, the necklace striped blue and white.
We all are fans and we can all guess fear,
We know what is at stake on such a night.

And beyond night, I’ll try myself to share
The game with others–it’s morning out there.

Ember Nickel makes sport with the English language on her blog, Lipogram! Scorecard!

The Rangers lay their popguns down
Nolan Ryan sports a frown
The Cardinals new life have found
When Mr. Freese comes to town

The Texas bullpen crashes down
Nelson Cruz fields like a clown
The seat of Mark Lowe’s pants turns brown
When Mr. Freese comes to town

Bud Selig puts away the crown
Ol’ Dallas? One more cowtown
We all get a Game 7 showdown
When Mr. Freese comes to town

The ‘birds were turned back by Napoli
And their hitting missed the scenery
Ron’s dances and Punto’s charming wrongs
But wait a minute, something’s wrong…

Hey, Tony, Tony Italiano!
Hey, Tony, Tony Italiano!
No, no, no; no World Series win for you, you Sicialiano

Like Zeus with his shattering bolts
LaRussa’s best batter packs volts
.     Like a powerful god
.     from his towering bod
flows the juice to the bat of Puholz

I’m sure you all know by now that Hilary posts his limericks on monster movies, noir thrillers and comic books every day at LimerWrecks, but I thought I’d remind you all the same.

The third was both end and beginning,
It determined the losing and winning
.     For the Tigers, the plane
.     To the Rangers, champagne
All it took was one Texas-sized inning.