Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
These are the saddest of possible words:
Soriano nails the runner at the plate.
His arm is so strong many coaches guessed wrong.
Soriano nails the runner at the plate.
So beware, the fleet footed, and heed the stop sign.
Soriano nails the runner at the plate.
Advance if you must but beware of the dust.
Soriano nails the runner at the plate.
Posted 8/30/07
by Caleb Wiley
Big Klu and his guns struck fear
In opponents both far and near.
His sleeves were ripped out, swung the bat with great clout,
The Mighty Big Klu was he.
His biceps were frightening indeed.
He caused the old hardball to bleed.
No doubt he was big, he also was tough,
The Mighty Big Klu was he.
His muscles were au naturel,
Unlike DeRosa and Sosa, et al.
No steroids or juice, just nature unloosed,
The Mighty Big Klu was he.
Posted 8/21/2007
Big Klu and his guns struck fear
Into opponents both far and near.
His sleeves were ripped out, swung the bat with great clout,
The Mighty Big Klu was he.
His biceps were frightening, indeed.
He caused the old hardball to bleed.
No doubt he was big, he also was tough,
The Mighty Big Klu was he.
His muscles were au naturel,
Unlike DeRosa and Sosa, et al.
No steroids or juice, just nature unloosed–
The Mighty Big Klu was he!
Posted 8/21/2007
One way that this year’s Verlander-ing
Was different than classic philandering:
Pudge set it up with his pandering,
Aided by expert ball-handling,
But after all their energy-expending,
The Brewers had blue balls at the ending.
by Tim McClure
100 will soon be here,
‘08 to ‘08 we do fear,
A ‘45 goat or ‘69 cat,
Durham’s glove or a fan’s catch,
Bone the curse, don’t wait for next year!
Some say with a goat we were cursed,
Some say it’s an error at first,
Black cats with the Mets,
Or Bartman’s bad catch–
I fear the Cubs are the worst.
The series I wish they could win,
For naught now it seems like a sin,
They’ve tried for so long,
It’s the same old song,
Who’ll ever see it, my kin?
They’ve won! I can’t believe it!
In the ninth with a home run hit!
We’ve waited so long,
The field is a throng,
I just woke up… Oh S**t!
The Red Sox did it four years ago,
The White Sox were next in line to glow,
We thought we were next,
Our muscles were flexed,
But our Cubs missed their turn in the show.
There’s a dream that’s been dreamt for awhile,
That we’d smoke the Cardinals with style.
We’d tromp ’em real good,
Like we know we should.
This Cub’s dream isn’t wicked nor vile.
There was an old team called the Cubs,
Who for years have looked just like subs.
They’ve tried to get better,
But have seemed in fetters,
‘Cause the curse has left all those flubs.
Posted 7/30/07