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2009 Poetic Interlude #3: 88 Lines About 44 Athletics

[Original lyrics here.]

88 Lines About 44 Athletics

Durazo was the Holy Grail,
he held out for a better pitch.
Emil was a different type,
he's the one who drove runs in.
Barry had a wack curve,
and umps were afraid of a curve like that.
Melhuse earned his paycheck sitting down
where the coaches sat.

[Full Poetic Interlude after the jump.]

Menechino had an armless hurl,
a peripatetic Major-Leaguer.
Sweeney was a Jesus-freak,
we liked his kind of mentoring.
Greg Smith had this special way
of turning singles into outs.
Kendall proved he couldn't hit,
kept the starts or he would pout.

Ziggy lived up to the hype,
the submarine, the best since Chad.
Cust thought hits were second best
to getting on base without swinging his bat.
Hatte cruciverbalist,
to DJ he was known as "Dad."
Kotsay's point of view was this:
take whatever you can grab.

Mulder was another hurler
the lefty Mark's fallen off the map.
Haren liked to tie batters up,
though Keith Law says he lacks that pitch.
Mecir had this clubfoot walk
yet still made grown men swing and miss.
Mark Ellis who had a son
said "I must go," but finally stayed.

Jeremy's brisé volé
was Jetered one dark '01 night.
Big G brought his tattoos back
after he apologized.
Milton B. who grew inflamed,
was never ever satisfied.
Langerhans came and went so fast,
he didn't even say good-bye.

Well Rhodes was sold as pounds for pennies,
gave up homers and blown games.
Redman too was shipped to Pittsburgh,
shot his mouth off several times.
Loaiza thought the road was empty,
filled it up with alcohol.
Huston Street was much too pretty,
he went to the ballpark via rail.

Uh-huh. BARTin' Huston Street.

Ruby thought that gloves were simple,
put it on and take it off.
Jaha, J. was oft frustrated,
by some minor pain or ache.
Harden--was he broken or lazy?
always missed like six games straight.
Jack C. was a "three true" slugger,
golden sombrero every trip to the plate.

Jerry was a slender pitcher,
lean machine Tekulvery.
Monkey wrote bad poetry
in a crazy kind of urgency.
Bobby Crosby liked to swing
at anything off the outside corner.
Billy's strange obsession
was for ballplayers with paternal baseball roots.

Huddy got shipped home to 'Lanta,
that trade turned out to really suck.
Dee-Bee's noggin struck the bottom,
left a funny scar up top.
Danny J. had far worse problems,
sunscreen vertigo leprosy scurvy.
Big Hurt first time hit like crazy,
left the Blue Jays came back broken.
Bobby one time broke his hand,
but always rocks the high-up socks.
Two-Buck Chuck couldn't hit a barn,
Dan Meyer had a busted arm.
Ben Grieve didn't give a shit,
just a nihilist.
Guillen was much more my style,
but his temper it made Beane so pissed.
Jermaine's leg broke forty ways
hitting foul ball ricocheted.
Zito got his better pay
across the San Francisco Bay.
Two Jays came from Scutaro,
their comps just might be Mike Oquist.
Eric Chavez, games he's missed!
We'll see him on disabled list.

Eighty-eight lines about forty-four Athletics.