In an effort to instill some
excitement into this shredded taco wrapper of a season, we are pleased to bring
you a series of “Little Known Facts About Your New York Yankees.”
I’ll bet, for instance, that few of you out there know that Joey Gallo is a veteran of the Great War, where he was shellshocked.
“I know I should be doing better. But it’s hard when I flashback to what it was like, staring out there at no-man’s-land all those nights and wondering when Jerry might come over the wire,” Joey reminisced recently.
To the outfield his pop flies go
Weak as kittens, soft and slow.
Another out, a great big fizz-o,
He’s hitting even less than
Rizzo.
This team is through. Short days
ago
They played like they had
somewhere to go.
Hit, and sometimes pitched, and
now they doze
As Joey goes.
Forget this bunch of woeful
schmos,
They’re not the heirs of Mick’s
or Mo’s.
The torch; be ours to hold it
high,
Pay no mind to the next Coops
lie.
Once Joey goes.
(With
thanks to balloon boy for the graphic embellishment.)
Posts
3 comments:
One of my favorite cartoons showed a blind guy with sunglasses and a beggar's cup and a prone canine on the sidewalk in front of him, with a sign reading "I am blind and my dog is dead."
That's what the Yankees have felt like since the win streak. The cartoon was funnier.
Lots to unpack here.
First up...
JM I think that is a Sam Gross cartoon, probably from National Lampoon. Dewitt Clinton and City College Grad according to Wikipedia.
My favorite one of his was takes place inside a restaurant that was having a frog's legs special and in the foreground is a frog wheeling himself out of the kitchen in a Porgy and Bess style cripple cart.
Secunde... (This means second either in Romanian or Spanish I'm not sure which.)
It could be neither. Sadly, I am unable to learn a foreign language or, as our European readers call it... language, because my brain's first language is comedy and when ever I am faced with something new I hear the joke, then have to unlearn the joke and then learn the thing. So an unfamiliar language is basically an overload.
Here's an example. Take the Spanish word for hand, Mano. Is it a kissing disease that only effects Men? Is it a a failed product that is a combination of Manwhich and Spagetti-Os. With little manly noodles shaped like part of the outfits worn by the Village People?
You see my problem? Now try to learn a whole language.
Chinese has like 500 letters. How do they play Wheel of Fortune? Those games must go on longer than a cricket match.
Anyway, to the real reason I am commenting...
Hoss, I love little know Yankee Facts. Would you mind if I wrote a few under a different banner?
Also, your poem really captured the dual horrors of WWI and watching Joey Gallo in a way that most would have deemed impossible. Well done!
All that was missing was that moment from yesterday's game where both the Yankees and the Mets spilled out of their trenches and engaged in the fiercest bench clearing conversation I have ever seen.
I like that Stanton went into the dugout and put his helmet away before jogging out (What you thought he's run?) to join the fray.
Moutho a' Moutho combat!
I'll stop now.
Doug K.
Horace, I'm posting this tomorrow morning on Bardball, under the title "As Joey Goes". Thanks for the woe.
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