Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Fish for sale! Yo, fish for sale!
Marlins produce never goes stale!
A new rebuild set in motion,
A sinking team near the rising ocean.
In the glaring Miami sun
Any squad will come undone.
Don’t fall in love with Luis Arráez.
He’ll disappear before your eyes.
Burger, Bell, and Tanner Scott
Could be gone when summer’s hot,
And things won’t get calm later:
Come fall, bye-bye, Skip Schumaker
Root for the Marlins? Don’t forget:
A time-share is all you’ll ever get.
Atlanta Braves
Without a weakness—
Except for being human
And, thus, changeable.
Philadelphia Phillies
The leadoff hen lays
Or does not lay; she knows of
No other outcome.
Miami Marlins
One more year, no fish.
Can’t be my cheap bait—no way.
God just detests us.
New York Mets
Ah, spring of Butto!
Lucchesi! Bickford! Megill—
Just not Senga. Ow.
Washington Nationals
Land of limousines,
Riding on retreads: Senzel,
Gallo, and Winker.
“Can’t anyone here play this game?”
Casey asked his forces
Then saw that his team, the Mets
Had become the Metsamorphosis
Six legs are certainly faster
Than the measly two
Six hands perform much better
In keeping balls from getting through
But gripping bats and swinging
Proved to be quite hairy
As no bug could hit no better
Than big ol’ Marv Throneberry.
If you want to jazz your game up a bit
Try out a new base-running mitt.
X has many styles
Sure to bring smiles
And give traditionalists a fit.
