by Michael X. Ferraro
Haiku eludes me
like a Niekro knuckleball
Oh Pocoroba!
Haiku eludes me
like a Niekro knuckleball
Oh Pocoroba!
Shane Greene
Will be the only Tiger seen
In Cleveland, or the World Series,
Unless a team in contention with money gets serious.
If Jacob DeGrom
Needs a nom
De plume when he writes a ponderous tome,
He should anagram his own to “Brad Jogcome.”
Ronald Acuña
Junior
Is already half-a-clerihew written
Unbidden.
Carlos Santana
Thinks it’s bananas
There’s a guy in the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame
With his same name.
As the season ends and the playoffs loom,
Let us pause a sec and make some room
In our doggerel feed for those athletes
Who’re hanging up mitts and jocks and cleats.
The Jints will miss ol’ Hunter Pence
Of flaming beard and glare intense.
After so many seasons, Bartolo Colon
Will finally get to shower alone.
Minnesotans, pray to your higher power
For another guy even close to Mauer.
Now David Wright, Mets’ grand old man,
Will have to watch them choke from the stands.
With the Angels’ collapse, Mike Scioscia
Might do well inspecting for OSHA.
Chase Utley being out of the game
Frees me from trying to rhyme his name.
And with no regrets, let’s bid adieu
And good riddance to Chief Wahoo.
A Cards fan, I
These playoffs
I decry
The Rockies collapse,
Cleveland implodes,
The Braves, too young,
NY and Boston hung.
Oh, now wait,
Two nights went right,
Oct. 1st and 2nd…
Good night
Postseason baseball
time for unlikely heroes
in the autumn chill