By Joe Moag
Our summer game’s true grab
On people’s hearts and minds
Is that after taking crap at work
We turn on Channel 9.
As we finish up our dinners,
As we tuck our kids in bed;
As we plop down on the couch
To try and rest our addled heads;
Len and Bob jump on our screens
And hail the pending win:
“The Cubs are set for battle,
SO LET THE GAME BEGIN!”
By the third, Lee has struck out twice,
Ramirez popped to short;
Theriot has swung through three:
He’s allergic to the walk.
By the fifth our pitcher’s bothered–
After all, he’s done his best;
He’s let in only two runs
But that’s two more than he’ll get.
See Cubs hitters swear their oath
To swing at every pitch!
Regardless of location,
Regardless of “the sitch”!
Swing boys, SWING! is their new mantra
It’s something you can’t teach–
When the bat is flailing wildly
At a pitch that’s out of reach.
By the bottom of the ninth
After three are up and down,
Len and Bob say, “Join us
When tomorrow, ‘it’s back on!’”
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