Friday, April 4, 2014

Doncha Know? The Poem

John Sterling would call him
The pride of the Yanks,
Not a fellow inclined
To be breaker of banks,
Gold glove on each hand,
And a gun for each throw.
And with every home run,
John would cry,"DONCHA KNOW?"
And, oh, how John shouted
When Robbie did swing,
Never thinking of suitors
Those homers could bring,
Flatly promised the fans
That their hero would stay,
And his voice just went still
When Cano went away.

So, these days, batting third
Yes, it's Robbie Cano.
He's the King of Seattle,
Awash in his dough.
But when he smacks a ball
For a Mariner score.
Exclaimed any more.

And so we learn lessons
From baseball and life:
First: A player's a player;
Don't make him your wife.
He will stay for a season,
And then one day, he'll go.
He will shatter your heart,
Just like Robbie Cano.

And then there's the truth
About money and fame,
If you're earning your life
From a childhood game.
You can go anywhere
That vast riches bestow,
But no one shouts,


Buhner's Ghost said...

Your content is lousy and your meter is worse. You may know your juju, but you're lousy at verse.

el duque said...

So sez a man
Who's a Mariners fan.

Buhner's Ghost said...

We sent the Bronx Ichiro,
Now you think he sucks.
We stole your Cano,
'Cause we offered more bucks.
Pineda? Montero?
Neither guy helps.
But you'll never get over
Trading Buhner for Phelps.

el duque said...

Your rhymes are obscene-o.
Plus, you overlooked Tino.

KD said...

116 wins!
Wow! what a showing!
the sun was a-rising
your cocks were a-crowing
then came the Bronx Bombers
your power abated
how dare those rude fans
bark out "over-rated"?

KD said...
This comment has been removed by the author.