No Relief

By David Aretha

The Tigers can hit
And everyone knows it,
Yet it don’t mean a thing
When the bullpen can’t close it.

Detroiters may reign
As kings of the Central,
But they’ll never go farther
When the bullpen is mental.

Valverde chugged water,
Swirled and spit,
And then he’d cough up
The game-winning hit.

Benoit filled in nicely,
But then he got sloppy,
Serving a granny
To the mighty Big Papi.

“We need a sure thing;
Get Nathan, doggone it.”
But his heater ain’t working;
He’s got nothing on it.

Dombrowski’s a genius;
Stole J.D. from the ’Stros,
But because of their bullpen,
They got swept by the O’s.

I’d deal to the Devil
Miguel Cabrera,
If only he’d trade me
Mariano Rivera.