Browse all poems and songs in the 'Los Angeles Dodgers' Category

The Waking Dead

by Hilary Barta

Both their fans and their uniforms blue,
To a man the Cubs couldn’t hit boo
No scoring, just zeroes
Then game four, and they’re heroes
When they ran up a cushy 10-2.


This is the Year — to Panic

by Hilary Barta

In our stomachs, that rotten old pit
Cubbies somehow forgot how to hit
Seems the team tempted fate
And lost steam at the plate
Feeling numb, our carotids we slit.


Behind the Curve

by James Finn Garner

The Cubs had their fill
Of Rich Hill
Losing with every curve
Their nerve
Waving futile flutters
At his cutter
Trying “Not to Suck”
Without luck


The Cure for Clayton Kershaw

By Hilary Barta

Clayton Kershaw can throw with the best
And the hurler can go on short rest
But Cubs fans can chill
Next up is Rich Hill
So, courage! And don’t get depressed.


Just a Heads-Up

by James Finn Garner

When Kershaw pitches, why show up?
There’s better things to do — wise up!
Hang decorations from your stirrups
Take up pottery and throw a cup
Go to Tindr for quick hookups
Inventory your Dixie cups
Visit a shelter and adopt a pup
Invent a new, no-glute ketchup
Lip-synch “Build Me Up Buttercup”

But don’t take your at-bat. Just give up.


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Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.