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Barry Bonds #3

by Stu Shea

There once was a guy down the pike
Who was blacker than Andy Van Slyke.

He hits like Babe Ruth,
But to tell you the truth,

There’s little ’bout Barry to like.

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A Brad (Not a Bad) Penny

by Stu Shea

 

Throw a Penny at a team,

And count the strikeouts.

Throw a Penny on the hill,

And watch the psych-out.

Other teams with payrolls high

Cannot hit this Dodgers guy

Sometimes talent stands alone!

This penny beats a million bones.

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The Return of the Rocket

by Stu Shea

So Roger’s coming back at last.

Be still my heart that beats so fast!

Forgive me if I seem to joke

At Clemens’ latest blow of smoke.

 

The baseball world stands, mouth agape

As Rocket Man adjusts his cape.

Forgive me if this time I sit

And disregard this silly shit.

 

It’s not as if he’ll join my team,

So why should I, like others, scream,

“Roger’s back! Oh, praise the Lord!”

If my team his paycheck can’t afford?

 

“He wants a ring! He loves the game!”

The song remains fore’er the same.

“It’s not the money, not the perks,

It’s ’cause he loves his baseball, jerks!”

 

So Big George forks up mega-mills

For 15 visits to the hill.

(He doesn’t have to hang around

Those days when he’s not on the mound.)

 

His “veteran leadership” and arm

Calm Torre’s typical alarm.

But is it right to pay and pay

A guy who plays the game this way?

 

No matter what his season holds,

I’m waiting til next year unfolds,

And he retires, the spoiled dunce,

And keeps a promise just this once.

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A Man Named “Pronk”

by Stu Shea

He hits like a God

And runs like a statue.

If you throw a fastball,

He’ll line it back at you.

Before the DH,

He might have been stuck

In minor-league ball

With a lot of bad luck.

Would his defense have been mocked like poor old Smead Jolley’s?

Booting balls like he’s starring in Flo Ziegfeld’s “Follies”?

Who knows? He’d still be a hero while swinging the wood.

If we “designate” Hafner, just designate him “good.”

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Early Buehrle Hurly-Burly

by Stu Shea

While it isn’t the same

As winning a game

From towheaded, cute little leaguers,

To shut down a team

That’s no hitting machine

Remains low on the “difficult” meter.

But no-hit affairs

Are still fairly rare,

Particularly in this age,

So even the Rangers

Who mostly are strangers

Pose putative threats in the cage.

In Mark Buehrle’s big scene

Back on April 18

At windy, chilly U.S. Cell,

He flattened out Texas

Like they were his breakfast

Or apples for William Tell.

Ex-Cubs Sosa, Hairston

And Lofton had no fun

Against Buehrle’s changing of speeds,

And obscuros like Kata,

Cruz, Laird and the remainda

Dropped no base hits into the weeds.

So Buehrle was fitter.

He got his no-hitter,

The AL’s first since Derek Lowe’s,

Bringing him validation

Across our great nation

In expanded post-game highlight shows.