How Can We Miss Him If He Won’t Go Away?

By Stuart Shea

Old Roger’s back on the hill,
Tryin’ to prove somethin’ to someone,
Mowin’ down hitters half his age,
Givin’ the AARP quite a thrill.

Old Roger’s campaign’s not done,
He’ll keep tryin’ to clear his name,
Hoping his Hall of Fame ticket is punched,
As he rides off into the sun.

I wonder if Roger is scared
Of knowing how little it means.
He’s no more than a coddled cheat,
And it’s been a long time since we cared.


Published in Boston Red Sox, Fans, History, Houston Astros, New York Yankees, Players, Pure doggerel, Scandals, Stu Shea, Toronto Blue Jays | Link to this poem | No Comments

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