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Misery is the Name of the Game

by Sid Yiddish

We’re going back…back…back…

Hey! Hey! There’s a game today, but I’m not going.

No, I can’t afford it.

Seems to me only the privileged and the drunkards get to go and root for their team in the miserable Chicago rain, but misery is the name of the game, when the Cubbies are concerned.

So, like…are they truly worth the throngs of fans who become viciously unruly when the boys in blue are losing, or do they just booze it up with that last cupful of beer and when a swig is taken, realize that it’s just empty like that bullpen at the last half of the 6th?

It is neither magic, but perhaps more myth.

That, well, what if the Cubs were to win another pennant and go all the way and win that silver loving ashtray…

Keep dreaming losers, keep dreaming.

Posted 4/28/08 

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One Born Every Minute

by Sid Yiddish

I’ll never puke at home, yessirree,
While watching Fukudome play baseball on TV.
His hitting is sensational, a real superstar in his prime.

It’s just that…well, he plays for the Cubs,
America’s loveable losers, the Major League’s true blue flubs.

And well, I doubt he was brought in just for his ability to hit, no management needs to sell tickets and you can’t sell tickets to a game, if the team plays so lame, so you need to ornamentate the actuality with a little gold lame’.

Just to bring the suckers in…

Yeah, there’s one born every minute.

Posted 4/23/08 

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Stadium Name Game

By James Finn Garner

What to name dear Wrigley Field
As history to commerce yields?

Should it be named for Ken-L Ration
To halt “dog days” for Cubbie Nation?

As ticket prices cull the rank
And file, maybe Citibank?

As young draft picks all go bust,
“Mr. Clean” might lift the dust.

Pepsi Cola? Dell Computers?
Honda Motors? Air-Wick? Hooters?

The problem’s not to name the place—
It’s how to win a pennant race.

We’ll know the team’s completely dotty
If Sweet Lou’s christened “Lou Malnati.”

Posted 4/14/08

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Say Eh, Felix Pie, Say Eh! (With Slight Apologies To Willie Mays)

by Sid Yiddish

Say eh, Felix Pie, say eh!
Does it hurt much today?

I gather it’s worse than being strapped to a totem, than to have so much publicity attached to your torsioned scrotum.
Though humbling it seems, it happened in the winter, still it’s a true calamity, for it makes men squeal like girls by boys who given them toys like diamond rings, fur coats and shiny new cars.
Be that as it may, only a scar will hide away the familiarity with the actual case; no longer will it be based on balls, nor will it be having a ball, ‘coz now it’ll be harder, not as in boner, though…

It will still be tougher saving face.

So, say eh, Felix Pie, just say eh!
Does it really hurt that much today?

Posted 4/11/08