by James Finn Garner
Cleveland rookie Jhonkensy Noel
Might lack books full of potions and spells
But one wave of his wand
When his chances seemed gone
Left the Yanks frozen, speechless, unwell.
Gavelanche
by Michael X. Ferraro
Sac Fly,
Sac Fly,
then Bye-Bye.
Aaron Judge has awoken.
The Bronx
fans let
out a sigh–
the cold bat’s once
again smokin’.
Weaver Fever
by James Finn Garner
Luke Weaver
Can be a deceiver
Young, bright, even cleaner
Than Beaver Cleaver
Yet kills with his heater
Like dengue fever
Cincinnati weren’t believers
DFA’d him, pulled the lever
New York thought him keener
Not as a starter, neither
Now the late-game Caesar
Star reliever
Overachiever
From kids to geezers
The Yankeeverse is flying in the ether
Heavy breathers
With Weaver Fever
Another Fine Mets
by Michael X. Ferraro
You should not take a lead on these Mets–
it will just lead to major regrets.
They show great restraint,
hit ’em where they ain’t,
and give rival fans real bad Tourette’s.
Fire Cats
by James Finn Garner
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
No one told Houston the plot
AJ Hinch gave his old squad a swat
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Now Cleveland’s about to get taught
The summer games might come to naught
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Whatever team comes down the slot
They still lose when they’ve shot their shot
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Are these rookies aware what they’ve got?
Any need for vets they forgot
Playing with Red Bull, courage and snot
Youthful spirit means quite a lot
Call them “Tigertown Tots”
And they’ll tie your tongue in a knot
What hath the Ilitches wrought?
Somebody let the Tigers get hot.