Tastee Freese
by James Finn Garner
The Rangers lay their popguns down
Nolan Ryan sports a frown
The Cardinals new life have found
When Mr. Freese comes to town
The Texas bullpen crashes down
Nelson Cruz fields like a clown
The seat of Mark Lowe’s pants turns brown
When Mr. Freese comes to town
Bud Selig puts away the crown
Ol’ Dallas? One more cowtown
We all get a Game 7 showdown
When Mr. Freese comes to town
Hey, Tony Italiano
by David Bellel
The ‘birds were turned back by Napoli
And their hitting missed the scenery
Ron’s dances and Punto’s charming wrongs
But wait a minute, something’s wrong…
Hey, Tony, Tony Italiano!
Hey, Tony, Tony Italiano!
No, no, no; no World Series win for you, you Sicialiano
Swings the Body Electric (World Series Game 3)
by Hilary Barta
Like Zeus with his shattering bolts
LaRussa’s best batter packs volts
. Like a powerful god
. from his towering bod
flows the juice to the bat of Puholz
I’m sure you all know by now that Hilary posts his limericks on monster movies, noir thrillers and comic books every day at LimerWrecks, but I thought I’d remind you all the same.
LaRussa as Lincoln
by Todd Herges
Dearest Mary,
Mine eyes have seen the stresses
of the team far back in June;
of a long goatee brought in to save
but failing far too soon.
Four score and one game makes a half,
and both sides of the all-star break
our men did try their best, yet
good progress they could not make.
Out went McClellan; in came Grant
to help us win the day,
while Sherman (twenty-nine) burned the South
and turned the tide our way.
And now, my dear, I’ve decided that
to bring Cardinal nation together I’ve got
to give command of the ball, at the very end,
to the able Ulysses S. Motte.
Prayerfully yours,
Abe
Cardinals: Don’t Hate Us Cuz We Win
by Alan P. Rudy
A Cubs fan laments of Cardinal success,
In the face of Philly’s utter Yankee-ness,
And Arizona’s owner’s militant anti-immigrant mess,
Of Milwaukee’s ties to the Commish’s anti-player caress…
Fans of cursed fate are sad to witness.
