By James Finn Garner
(With abject apologies to William Blake)
Tygers, Tygers, choking bad,
When champeens we thought we had.
What possessed the baseball scribes
To pick you o’er Sox and Tribe?
In Florida, Dombrowski–
Did he smile his work to see?
Aging bats and unproved arms,
With slim pickin’s on the farm.
Why’s Dontrelle in Single A?
Why does Clevlen get to play?
What turned Edgar Renteria
A defense gaffe-eteria?
Who knew, alone, Cabrera
Would revive th’ Dead Ball Era?
Will you become a stalker
If Sheffield gets a walker?
Tygers, Tygers, sucking wind,
We know fate has not been kind.
With Rodney and Zoom-Zoom back–
Watch out! Middle of the pack!
Published in Detroit Tigers, James Finn Garner, Lyric | Link to this poem | No Comments