Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
The backwards cap, the silk-smooth swing
Once again, The Kid feels like The King.
No steroids talk, no BALCO rumor–
The game has always been pure fun for Junior.
Back in the outfield, out in San Fran
If only everything had gone to plan.
An All-Star once again, out in the bay
Nostalgia knocks: dreams of Griffey’s heyday.
Posted 7/16/07
(Sorry to get to it a week after the All-Star Game, Cory)
One after one they came into the game
From free agency and the farm
Each took his place on the mound
And cursed me with his arm
Two times fifteen blown saves
And with plenty a sigh and a groan
With belt-high fastballs and hanging curves
They gave up runs one by one
Biceps like well-tempered iron,
Frightening to see,
Was Ted Kluszewski.
No shirtsleeves wore he,
Did Ted Kluszewski.
And if you asked him why, he’d
Grind you into loose tea.
In his day he was feared,
The toughest man on the Ponderosa.
But today his muscles are matched
By Sammy Sosa
And Mark DeRosa.
They call him the masculine tower
He can hit a home run with such power,
From San Fran’s west coast
And so quick with the boast
“I can do it again in an hour”!
Every fan now has reason to ponder
Every long ball that’s hit way out yonder,
Is the batter legit
Or a crass hypocrite
And a good-name-of-baseball absconder?
From the city of quaint San Francisco
And a blast from his muscular wrist, oh.
Plus a shot in his thigh
You should see the ball fly,
To the town of San Luis Obispo
Felix is not a cat nor catcher.
He is a very large pitcher.
Batters do not like to face his deliveries.
He will grow very much richer.