by NaryBarry
Barry Bonds is a fearsome home run hitter
Who sends all his fans into quite a twitter.
His manhood has not shrunk
From that steroid junk–
Maybe the judge will be an acquiter.
Magglio’s Last Laugh
by James Finn Garner
When Kenny Williams told Maggs
To pack up his bags,
Hinting grit wasn’t one of his talents,
Kenny hadn’t the notion
That he’d set in motion
An era of Motown Magg-nificence.
Magglio got maligned
but later was signed
By Tiger whiz David Dombrowski.
Now he’s hitting like Gehrig,
While the White Sox are staring
over their shoulders, worried ’bout Kansas City.
Posted 7/25/07
7th Inning Stench
by Sid Yiddish
Last call for alcohol
Last call for your nation at bat
It was that last great league in Irish Town where he never forgets
The crack of the bat feels like the spit of his fame just blowin’ in the breeze
Like the crumbled skeleton staring at the door with its head between its knees
Old skeleton knows where it’s going, night after night after night
To wash its hands of curses, sins of the past 80 years, look in the mirror and cry
For it’s the soul of the league that’s on trial
No longer can a skeleton smile, just shake, like those pep pills and drugs and business that now sweeps it under the rug, while the GAT of the thug is shoved into the back of the big boss who pushes aside the integrity of the game for payoffs and thrills
The record is broken, the record is cast
The crowd doesn’t say much when the dark shadow is cast into stone or the graveyard in the hall
He cast the first shadow, so he did fall
The crowd remains silent
The crowd still remains
Old skeleton washes up in a sea of notoriety
Like the spit of his fame.
Posted 7/19/07
The Running of the Tartabull
by Sandy Marshall
Danny,
Oh Danny,
The heart of a bull.
Hey, Danny,
Go, Danny!
The “Star Well” is full!
Now Danny!
It’s time Danny!
The son of Jose’ . . .
Stand Danny,
That’s right, Danny,
It’s time now to play.
Breathe, Danny,
On deck, Danny,
You just left the hole
Now hit, Danny,
Home run, Danny –
Grand Slam Tartabull!
Barry Bonds #15
by Phil Lacovara
The melonhead, he was a Giant,
About steroids, he didn’t mind lyin’,
With the Cream and the Clear,
Into pitchers he struck fear,
‘Til into BALCO, the law started pryin’.
7/23/07