Call off your dogs, Selig. It's over. You won.

Call off your dogs, Selig. It's over. You won.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Jorge Posada: A Poem of Love

TO JORGE

The whole league fears our great armada,
Contenders in each year’s regatta.
But now it’s fear, we got a lotta,
Adrift without Jorge Posada.
.
We always reach that upper strata
And chase The Biggest Enchilada.
But now we’re hopeless: nothing, nada.
That’s life without Jorge Posada.
.
Great glory? We shall never win it,
If forced to send out Kelly Stinnett.
There is no chance with Sal Fasano,
If Jorge’s down, like Carl Pavano.
.
I’d rather use than Mike Piazza
Some cashier from a Kmart plaza,
Our only power would be solar,
If batting sixth, we use Chad Moeller.
.
The fans won’t come to our arena
To watch us with Jose Molina.
Our chances shall be rank and smelly,
The day we sign Doug Mirabelli.
.
It brings great pain for me to say,
We’re even thin at Triple A.
And we will watch with great dismay,
Until we see our man… Jorge.

2 comments:

Whitey Schadenfraudenstein said...

That's beyootiful. It's like Art and I don't mean Howe.

michael kei said...

If you say "Jorgie" instead of "Jorge" at the end, it doesn't rhyme. I don't think Jon Miller will be too happy about that.