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Buy More Bonds

by James Finn Garner

Barry Bonds, Barry Bonds,
Won’t someone please buy Barry Bonds?

The burly man-child at 44
Surely can give something more.

While the Rangers could use his mighty bat,
Texas must have a big enough hat.

In Minnesota he could deliver the goods,
And spend days off prowling the woods.

In New York, the powerful media glare
Would show if there’s any personality there.

Washington would enjoy spinning turnstiles,
And be handy for the start of his perjury trial.

It’s time to move to make the playoffs this year.
Come on! He can give SOMEONE a shot in the rear!

Posted 8/18/08 

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The End?

By Stuart Shea

The Cubs are the best team in baseball.
So good that your toes may curl.
I’m worried that we may be approaching the end of the world.

A black man may become president.
No matter what sludge Repubs hurl.
I’m worried that we may be approaching the end of the world.

The hole in the ozone layer is wide–
With enough space to fit Terry Forster inside
Our societies reek of fratricide
While starving untold millions have died.

Just like in Kinsella’s great story,
Those in control don’t know what to do.
All I know is that when we all go
We prob’ly won’t bleed Cubbie blue.

 

Posted 8/15/08 

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Them Versus Dem

by Sid Yiddish
Well, the Sox fans hate the Cubs fans,
And the Cubs fans hate the Sox fans,
Yet, both teams are doing so very well.
So why, why do the fans give each other hell?
It couldn’t be a Northside versus Southside stigma, now could it?

Still, let’s get one thing straight:
There are vital differences between them,

And it all boils down to this…

White collar versus blue collar,
Upper management versus the union,
Family versus The Family,
Particular versus pride,
The SUV versus the family van,
Pencil-neck versus redneck,
The prize trophy wife versus the missus,
The hunks versus the hits,
The stunts versus the stats,
The goat versus the gut.

But it’s the Sox fans who can take the heat, versus the Cub fans who will try to sell you the entire kitchen.

Posted 8/11/08 

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Mother, May I Slug the Umpire?

by Anonymous, 1886

Mother, may I slug the umpire,
May I slug him right away?
So he cannot be here, mother,
When the Clubs begin to play?
Let me clasp his throat, dear mother,
In a dear, delightful grip
With one hand, and with the other
Bat him several in the lip.
Let me climb his frame, dear mother,
While the happy people shout;
I’ll not kill him, dearest mother,
I will only knock him out.
Let me mop the ground up, Mother,
With his person, dearest do;
If the ground can stand it, mother,
I don’t see why you can’t, too.
Mother, may I slug the umpire,
Slug him right between the eyes?
If you let me do it, mother,
You shall have the champion prize.

Quoted in Crazy ’08 by Cait Murphy.

 Posted 7/28/08