Browse all poems and songs in the 'Management' Category


“No!”: Sale

by the Village Elliott

Chris said to the Sox, “Not for Sale!
Throwback unis’ pale hose much too pale!”
Tore them all into shreds.
Did Chris “sail off his meds”
Or contrive to get forwarded mail?

 



The Ballad of Chris Sale

by James Finn Garner

Attend the White Sox uniform
It doesn’t breathe when the weather’s warm
A laughing stock since the day it premiered
Of all throwbacks, by far the most weird . . .
Enter Sale
Yes, Chris Sale
The demon tailor of 35th Street.

The collar’s large and the tail’s untucked
Like back in the day when disco sucked
Terrible PJs that no fan should watch
And by the fifth inning it rides up the crotch . . .
Beware Sale
That Chris Sale
The demon tailor of 35th Street

Raise your scissors high, Saley!
Don’t stop your tirade!
While you are at it, you can scuttle a trade!

A leader of men with no visible fuse
An atomic bomb whene’er he choose
Keep up your guard, ye White Sox brass
If you turn your back, you’ll get stabbed in the ass . . .

By Saley
By Chris Sale
The demon tailor of 35th Street!

 



Yankee Lineup Shakeup

by Stephen Jones

Right now, A-Rod and right handers don’t mix.
Right now, when he bats, it’s swing, miss . . . nix.
So, he’s chillin’ and sittin’ on the pines,
Girardi looks to players past their prime,
And the fan faithful wonders aloud:
If the team mantra is age before hitting,
Then A-Rod is right: Go with sitting.

 



Summer Cold

by Hilary Barta

Once so hot they could jump in the Lake,
Cubs looked shot as they slumped toward the break.
While Joe Maddon stays placid
We old fans drop antacid
‘Cause we’ve had all the lumps we can take.

 



Moon, Swoon, Baseball in June

By James Finn Garner

On this beautiful summer day in June
The Royals rise and the White Sox swoon
The Astros still dream of their trip to the moon
The Red Sox hope they aren’t peaking too soon
While the Yanks obsess over things picayune
The Rangers and Jays field their share of goons
Tampa ponders a move to Saskatoon. . .

And Epstein’s still the smartest guy in the room.

 

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.