by R J Lesch
The All-Star Game is happening tonight.
Now, usually I mock this whole parade.
It ought to be exciting, big, and bright,
but TV makes it worse than a charade.
The pageantry is tedious when viewed
on television narrated by hacks
on Fox who, let’s just say, are not imbued
with any grasp of poetry or facts.
But this time, I’ll be there! Up in the stands!
I won’t hear Joe Buck jabber something lame.
No sitcom star close-ups, no gimmick cams.
Just baseball. Pageant, sure, but still, a game!
No mockery from me tonight? We’ll see.
But driven by the game, and not TV.
Published in Ballparks, Fans, History, Pure doggerel, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | 2 Comments