by Ember Nickel
Oh, what is to be done with Brooks
If you can’t blame umpiring crooks,
Nor looming Giants, hated mooks,
Nor your peers, inadvertent schmucks?
Pilfer question marks from scorebooks
Recording dodgy moves by rooks?
Pelt him with food from angry cooks?
Hope he retreats to distant nooks?
Or just give him frustrated looks
And celebrate Cox’ final hooks?
The peerless Ember Nickel blogs at Lipogram! Scorecard!
Published in Atlanta Braves, Management, Pure doggerel, San Francisco Giants | Link to this poem | 4 Comments