by James Finn Garner
Atlanta’s mound ace Charlie Morton
Was handling Houston, cutting and sorting
He then broke his leg
But pitched one more set!
Yet here I am, barely surviving the morning.
Joc Pederson
by Millie Bovich
Joc Pederson, when he’s on deck
Sports his pearls, but what the heck
It’s not of pearly whites I speak
Catch a game, just take a peek
A pearly string around his neck!
Boston Massacre
Sure, Diaz was blind as a bat
Both teams benefited from that
But knock your guys in
Or you won’t get the win
“Men stranded”, the most meaningful stat.
The End Putrefies the Means
by James Finn Garner
Max Scherzer had Flores’ number
Had always buzz-sawed his lumber
Then the ump blew the call
Not a checked swing at all
And gave a classic the whiff of a dumpster.
Blackout Magic
by James Finn Garner
A grey-haired old gent with a cane
Wove a curse for White Sox’s gain
“I’m no magical force,
Just a fan.” Of course,
That’s just how a mage would explain.
Meet ‘Cane Guy,’ The Unlikely Sorcerer Who Helped Save The White Sox