Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Wrigley’s burning, the stands filled with pickets
Fans are spurning the clan they call Ricketts
. If their pop’s Super Pac
. Will not stop the attack
They’re returning their damn season tickets
Hilary Barta likes to stir up trouble at his limerick blog, LimerWrecks.
One hundred and four, nothing yet
One hundred and four, not a threat
All those years, win or lose
Always cheers, never boos
One hundred and four of regret
Hilary Barta was recently interviewed by the Chicago Tribune about the upcoming Roy Lichtenstein exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago. They didn’t mention his Cub fandom, but it’s obviously there between the lines.
Yesterday we played, we played baseball
the pitcher pitched and I whacked the ball
it flew over Maine
and a Japanese train
it flew over a polar ice cap
it was seen by some English chaps
some soldiers saw it in Afghanistan
and as it flew it learned Uzbekistan
it flew over the Great Barrier Reef
in North Dakota it sampled some beef
but just as it landed in Moscow
the umpire called it foul
Owen P. is a fifth-grade student in Chicago.
Rule #1
Back before Harry Caray, Santo, and Hughes
The bleachers held young actors paying their dues.
But Belushi and Murray knew Rule Number 1:
Remember, always, there’s a game going on.
Rule #2
Buy a scorecard, keep score, and follow along.
If you don’t know how, there’s an app on your phone.
Sit your butt down when you hear, “Down in front!”
Remember Rule Number 1: there’s a game going on.
Rule #3
Don’t go to get nachos when a runner’s on base.
Ignore your full bladder, that babe you might chase.
Just get up between innings or when a pitcher is gone.
Remember Rule Number 1: there’s a game going on.
Rule #4
Don’t sit back of home plate and gab on your phone.
When you show up on TV, you’ll look like a clown.
Get back to your scorecard; you might miss a home run.
Remember Rule Number 1: there’s a game going on.
Rule #5
The game lasts nine innings, don’t have any doubt.
Don’t stand for the pitcher until the last out.
Standing adds drama that doesn’t belong,
Remember Rule Number 1: there’s a game going on.
Rule #6
Remember that baseball’s the reason you came,
There’re plenty of sports bars for after the game.
No one cares how much cash you paid your salon,
Remember Rule Number 1: there’s a game going on.
The wife-and-husband team of Becky Binks and Cary Donham intrepidly support the Cubs from the far South Side enclave of Beverly.
Baseball’s Hall of Fame hails a time-honored game,
That cannot be settled by clock.
Inning after inning, no team is winning,
I’d opt not to buy tickets or stock.
If one is so clever, a game can last forever,
A tie score all knotted at zip.
Ruth started the line-up, need new hitters to sign up,
Like Bonds who can make a round trip.
But we may never survive to see a line drive,
For me the game just drives me bonkers.
Be it Brooklyn or Yanks, if you ask me, “No thanks!”
The Bronx just bombed out, on to Yonkers!
This time-worn tradition should be sent to perdition,
The outcome has outlasted my strength.
Would there be sudden death? Please don’t hold your breath,
This game of ages is just so by its length!