by Hart Seely
Derek Jeter took his bat
And flailed as if to a kill a rat.
He didn’t get a hit, of course,
And thus still trailed the Iron Horse.
Derek Jeter, what a bum!
Three measily hits would never come.
We really need a solid force,
But he still trailed the Iron Horse.
Derek Jeter, swinging late.
One brutal day: and 0 for eight.
And yet we state, withour remorse,
That he is now our Iron Horse.
Hart Seely is the author of Mother Goose Goes to Washington, as well as Oh Holy Cow: The Selected Verse of Phil Rizzuto, newly released in a 15th-anniversary edition. He often hangs around the Yankee website, It is High, It is Far, It is….caught, offering tasteful and constructive comments to management and players alike.
Published in History, New York Yankees, Players, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | No Comments