Roger Angell Needs His Sleep!

by James Finn Garner

Loitering near history’s portals,
The aces proved to be mere mortals
And all the vaunted firemen
Sprinkled gas again and again.
No margin safe, no lead secure.
“Mighty Bregman”? Why not, sure!
Houston’s muggy, the balls are juiced
Hitters snort antler of moose.

Whate’er excuse, my answer remains:
Baseball is the greatest game.

 


Published in Food, Houston Astros, James Finn Garner, Los Angeles Dodgers, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | No Comments

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