Hiroki Kuroda: The Poem

by Hart Seely

From Binghamton to Sarasota
We Yankee fans mix gin with soda.
Chaos, we have reached our quota.
Uncertainty, thy name’s Kuroda.

One day he could strike out Yogi.
Next day, he’s a double-bogey.
Every night, it’s karaoke.
Who is this guy, our boy Hiroki?

Perhaps some wise, old pitching Yoda
Knows why he can’t beat Minnesota,
Then laps the Mets in his Toyota.
Uncertainty, thy name’s Kuroda.


Hart Seely’s hilarious new book, The Juju Rules: Or, How to Win Ballgames from Your Couch: A Memoir of a Fan Obsessed, is available now in bookstores and from Amazon.

Published in New York Yankees, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | 1 Comment

Hiroki Kuroda: The Poem: 1 Comment

  1. Hilary Barta wrote,

    This one’s so good it needs a coda.

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