On days when drives are flying long,
And pitchers wonder what’s gone wrong?
The Bronx winds sing this joyous song:
“Giambi’s in his golden thong!”
Each swing reveals Giambi’s might,
Each wince inspires his mates to fight,
They know too well his painful plight:
One ball hangs left, one ball hangs right.
He leads the veteran team attack,
True courage, he shall never lack!
He eyes the pitch, then takes his whack
As golden threads ascend his crack.
Then comes the time when life turns wrong,
When wins grow short, and losses long,
And Bronx winds sing their saddest song:
“Giambi’s lost his golden thong!”
Dear God!! your blog is HILARIOUS!!
ReplyDeleteThank you! :D
Dear Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteSend money.
Wailin' Suzyn
Golden or not, no thong can beat the Curse of the 4th Inning.
ReplyDeleteOoooh, there might be a ditty there.
ReplyDeleteA verse in the curse.
[nods sagely, punches self in nuts]
ReplyDelete