by Hilary Barta
Take me out to the ballgame
(at Mega Predatory Capitalism Corp Park)
Take me out to the crowd
(taking selfies, texting their “friends” and checking email)
Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack
(How much? They’re PEANUTS!)
I don’t care if I never get back
(Actually, I do have to work in the morning)
For it’s root, root, root for the home team
(full of spoiled, right-wing millionaires)
If they don’t win, it’s a shame
(There’s always next year)
So it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out at the old ball game!
(now new and “improved” with replay challenges)
That is just cynical. You must not be a Cubs fan.
You must not read my limericks.
Hilary is just plain psychic. The day we published this, the Chicago White Sox sold the naming rights of their stadium (actually owned by the State of Illinois) to Guaranteed Rate Loans.
So it went from Comiskey Park, to US Cellular Field, to Guaranteed Rate Stadium.
But real Chicagoans, to avoid all this mess, would still refer to the stadium with the name of the Old Roman, a man whose shenanigans and penny-pinching led to the Black Sox Scandal of 1918. We don’t like any crooks but our own.
Pronounced, in south side vernacular. “Kaminski.”