An ode to A-Rod

As you may have noticed, through all of this A-Rod BS, I've been conspicuoulsy absent from posting my feelings on this blog. And it's a littl strange considering the only reason why I signed up for the thing is because I wanted to haunt Lucky #13 playing at my old stomping grounds. But because this is the 6 day anniversary (whatever you would call it) of the 50th anniversary of the Day the Music Died, I decided the appropriate response to this whole mess was to write a nice little ballad telling A-Rod the feelings of every diehard Yankee fans. (And if you look at the lyrics a little while, you could probably figure out the tune to the song.)

Chorus:
And here's to you, Mr. Rodriguez,
Cashman loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please Mr. Rodriguez.
The Hall might hold a place for you someday,
Hey, hey, hey

We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files;
We'd like to help you learn to hit in October.
Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes,
Cheering you loudly until you hit 0-4.



And here's to you, Mr. Rodriguez,
Cashman loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mr. Rodriguez.
The Hall might hold a place for you someday,
Hey, hey, hey

Hide in the hiding place where no one ever goes;
Put it in your pantry with your MVPs.
It's a little secret just A-Rod and Madonna’s affair.
But most of all, why did you talk to Gammons on national TV?



Koo-koo-ka-choo, Mr. Rodriguez,
Cashman loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
The Hall might hold a place for you someday,
Hey, hey, hey

Sitting in Central Park on a Sunday afternoon,
Thinking about those poor October blues,
Laugh about it, shout about it, when we heard the news
Every way we looked at this you lose.



(Crescendo up to the ending) Where have you gone, Scott Brosius,
Our franchise turns it's lonely eyes to you.
Boo, hoo, hoo
What's that you say, Mr. Rodriguez.
Brosius the Ferocious has left and gone away,
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey