I thought OTM might enjoy a run at some Red Sox poetry, more specifically, the limerick [after all, wasn't the "man from Nantucket" a Sox fan?]
cross-posted at Troy O'Leary's Cow
Hope springs inside Red Sox Nation
Quite strong looks the starting rotation
But no closer's touted
The bullpen's as crowded
As post-game outside Kenmore Station.
Mighty Casey, the loser, struck out
All Mudville could do was just pout
But Beantown was happy
`Cause they had Big Papi
Come clutch-time they'd shout then he'd clout.
For children most hire a nanny
But in Fenway things are quite uncanny
The little boy cries
Sox brass then advise
We just must let Manny be Manny.
Josh Beckett was one stubborn mister
Declared, "I just won't pop a blister."
Threw only his gas
The Yanks waxed his ass
Even called out his girlfriend and dissed her.
Rice, Pedro, Fisk, Doerr, Mirabelli
Yaz, Williams, Pesky, Petrocelli
Lowell, Schilling, DiNardo
Carl Beane, Mooney, Rowe, Ballgirl Kelly.
His gut was a big ball of Play-doh
Chaw jutting big like a tomato
El Tiante would pitch
His glove he would twitch
Then twist himself like a tornado.
Always pimping my Red Sox novel, The Curse of Carl Mays