Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
It’s how it’s done
Gotta play hard
It’s how it’s done
He should’ve watched out
It’s how it’s done
No room for cry-babies
It’s how it’s done
You gotta want to win
It’s how it’s done
It’ll happen again
It’s how it’s done
Glad it’s not my guy
They’re gone.
Pete, Pee-wee and Jackie
entertaining the
knothole gang
by crashing into walls,
hustling infield rollers,
and stealing home with a bang.
They’re gone.
Dolph and Cookie and Leo.
No Lip to the umps
No soda or peanuts or crackerjacks.
No cries from the
twenty-five cent bleachers seats
“Wait till next year!”
No more we’ll be chumps.
And Hoyt ain‘t hoit anymore.
They’re gone.
Van Lingle the Mungo and Sandy the K
and Campy, Newk, Preacher
and Mickey, who dropped the third out,
kicking the game away.
Even after Ralph hurled
the Shot Heard ‘Round the World
we were soothed by the guy in the catbird seat.
Red’s voice helped take away the heat.
There was sweet-swinging Duke
and Gil’s four in a game.
Why aren’t they
in baseball’s Hall of Fame?
We can still boo the Giants,
but it just ain’t the same.
Waiting year after year
for a moment delirious,
to root for the trolley boys,
at last, in 1955,
in the Woild Serious.
Finally, some fame,
more games to be won,
big houses to tally.
And the money ain’t lame.
But poof, they were gone,
a pox on O’Malley.
A pseudo-team now in LA
copping a cherished name.
An usurper.
A pretender.
A thief.
For shame! For shame!
It’s gone.
They’re gone.
Rest In Peace Ebbets Field.
Rest In Peace Brooklyn Dodgers.
A good-hitting pitcher will not sit
For a pinch hitter — wouldn’t think of it;
Some who’ve earned that respect,
For their teammates expect
He will help his own cause with a hit.
Bumgarner sure can hit, wield that bat,
Like Dons Robinson, Drysdale: out-flat;
Like Gibson, Big Daddy
Mad Bum needs no caddy,
Hear Don Newcombe was better than that.
Rough road trip complaints?
Just call Jake Arrieta.
The no-hitter cure.
S.F. Giants are streaky this year;
Spans where fans find little to cheer,
Then team’s offense revamps
And they look like World Champs.
Never know where next streak heads from here.
On Jints’ last road trips offense was hot,
But at home lately, offense is not.
With ninth loss in a row,
Tied schneid set long ago
In New York, with Manager Mel Ott.
“Master Melvin” team’s star recent past,
But as manager, Ott was miscast.
Said Bums’ skipper Leo,
“Mel’s nicest amigo,
But, you know that nice guys finish last.”