Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Astros
Unpronounceable,
The Opening Day starter—
It’s Dallas Keuchel!
Angels
The favorite son—
Prodigal again errant—
Setting in the West
Athletics
Old southpaws don’t die
Until they’ve had a chance to
Make the A’s roster
Mariners
A strong-armed fellow
Will bear the expectations
Of the great northwest
Rangers
A once-proud franchise
Sliding down the Banister,
Into pool or pile?
White Sox
Eaton, a Danish,
And fans hungry for more than
Just a few churros
Indians
Can we just bury
That nickname somewhere out by
Bad Knee ligament?
Tigers
‘15 may see a
Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright—
If Verlander’s back
Royals
Sudden royalty
Must beware of slipping back
Toward the commoners
Twins
Hometown hero Paul
Will learn that spring is full of hope
And buds that don’t bloom
Orioles
Hitless in 20…
Not a great way to come back
Is it, Matt Wieters?
Red Sox
New acquisition
For Boston’s Zoo—a panda.
He won’t go hungry.
Yankees
First spring in many
With a wide-open spot where
A legend once trod.
Rays
All the big names gone
And one eye is looking north
Thinking of Quebec.
Blue Jays
It’s hard to know, man…
Can they win without Stroman?
Does Haiku need rhyme?
The series is over,
And I can’t stand the stench.
The Royals’ best option
Was nailed to the bench.
Sure, MadBum was great,
The best in a clench–
But Yost left his best pinch-hitter
Sitting on the bench.
Salvador Perez broke his knee,
Or at least gave it a wrench,
But Yost wouldn’t replace him
With someone from his bench.
Now Josh Willingham’s retiring,
Unlike Dame Judy Dench.
He ended his career
With his ass on the bench.
By Stuart Shea
A Baseball Fan’s Heaven–
World Series Game Seven.
So Let’s Turn it Up to Eleven!