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All Right, a Few More Limericks to Pile on Barry

The Barry Bonds Limerick Trilogy: “Three Strikes and Yer Out!”

by Lou Carlozo

Canto One:
Farewell, Barry Bonds, Mr. Droider!
With a noggin as big as a goiter.

Can you take 30 years
Worth of jailbird jeers

In the prison yard parks where you’ll loiter?

Canto Two:
How many home runs could I pump
If I took 90 shots to my rump?

73 in a season?
It must stand to reason

Ask Barry–that Balco-ball chump.

Canto Three:
If Barry partook of the ‘droids,
It’s a cinch his career is destroyed.

Needles stuck in his ass,
Now he’s in a morass–

Strike three, ’cause the Feds are annoyed.

.

The Ho of Fame

by James Finn Garner

If Barry needed any incitement
To confess, now here’s his indictment.

Else, to prison he’ll go
To be someone’s ho,

Where anal rape’s the daily excitement.

.

Back in the News

By Doug White

Barry Bonds is back in the news
On CNN, Fox and even “The View”.

Though reporters have hedged
And say “it’s alleged”,

Everyone knows this time he’s through.

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Jeff Kent, Courageous Dodger

by Stu Shea

“It’s hard to influence a big group. We’ve got some good kids on the team. Don’t get me wrong, please don’t misinterpret my impressions. [But] it’s hard to translate experience. I don’t know why they don’t get it.
“It’s close to the end of the season. And a career for me, too. I’m running out of time. A lot of kids in here, they don’t understand that…and it’s hard to get them to understand that because they’ve haven’t been there. So there lies some frustration.”

–Jeff Kent, 9/21/07

Jeff Kent, second base for the Dodgers,
Is defending his fellow old codgers.

Says the kids don’t play right—
Most are black, and he’s white.

Got that? Roger. Kent’s a mean-spirited, selfish racist who just wants to get his name in the papers and doesn’t care about the mess he leaves behind, especially if it makes him look good and other people look bad.

Posted 10/18/07

 

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Ode To Willie Mays’ God-Boy AKA The Juice

by Sid Yiddish

Say hey, Willie! Say hey!

Your god-boy Barry is a true filly when it comes to being the next king of swat,
But it won’t matter much, ‘coz he lost his touch, once he started fillin’ up on THE JUICE.

Just like Sammy Sosa and young Mark McGwire, whose Louisvilles were on fire in that great summer of ’98, setting’ new swat records, fillin’ up on THE JUICE.

But THE JUICE is a noose and it only gets tighter, makes the swinger a
singer all the way to the bank, year after year after year, which is until THE JUICE starts to fizz

And the smacking goes to intermittent rain delays down on the field that so many play-by-play color-men describe as “dismal.”

But it’s no matter, Willie, for this boy is your pride and joy, and his greatness will never cause you fatigue.

Still.

Eyebrows will be raised across the league,
The young and the old will debate.

Ruth vs. Aaron, vs. Bonds vs. Mantle vs. Gehrig vs. Sosa vs. McGwire vs. A-Rod vs. any other future famer that is still left intact after they’ve had THE JUICE.

All seems so iffy if you ask me (but you don’t).

So.

Say hey, Willie! Say hey!
There will come the day when THE JUICE will dry up and blow away and all those swingers will age prematurely and become arthritic cripples and bent and lame in their retirement,
Just like you did sadly, dear Willie,
Just like you, without THE JUICE.

Posted 10/17/07

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Tales of (Trevor) Hoffman

by Stu Shea

Change-up, change-up.
He makes hitters clowns.
It floats to the plate
And it sits right down.

Change-up, change-up.
Off mediocre “heat,”
You feel real comfy,
But still you get beat.

I wonder if Hoffman
Throws change-ups in bed
Or if Mrs. Hoffman
Likes it “dead red.”