The Return of the Rocket

by Stu Shea

So Roger’s coming back at last.

Be still my heart that beats so fast!

Forgive me if I seem to joke

At Clemens’ latest blow of smoke.

 

The baseball world stands, mouth agape

As Rocket Man adjusts his cape.

Forgive me if this time I sit

And disregard this silly shit.

 

It’s not as if he’ll join my team,

So why should I, like others, scream,

“Roger’s back! Oh, praise the Lord!”

If my team his paycheck can’t afford?

 

“He wants a ring! He loves the game!”

The song remains fore’er the same.

“It’s not the money, not the perks,

It’s ’cause he loves his baseball, jerks!”

 

So Big George forks up mega-mills

For 15 visits to the hill.

(He doesn’t have to hang around

Those days when he’s not on the mound.)

 

His “veteran leadership” and arm

Calm Torre’s typical alarm.

But is it right to pay and pay

A guy who plays the game this way?

 

No matter what his season holds,

I’m waiting til next year unfolds,

And he retires, the spoiled dunce,

And keeps a promise just this once.


Published in Lyric, Management, New York Yankees, Players, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | No Comments

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