by James Finn Garner
Has no need to feel dour.
He’ll get a trip to the Big Apple for frees
Without having to play the Yankees.
Is the lone Astro.
He brings Bigfoot to mind
As the sole representative of his kind.
Doesn’t climb the mound alone.
He relies on his teammates, and God,
And Big Pharma supporting his ancient bod.
Must be some kind of he-man.
He’ll play in New York instead of Puig.
Too bad that now, I don’t give a fuig.
Published in Atlanta Braves, Houston Astros, James Finn Garner, Los Angeles Dodgers, Minnesota Twins, New York Yankees, Oakland Athletics, Players, Pure doggerel, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments