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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Rice, Pedro, Fisk, Doerr, Mirabelli
Yaz, Williams, Pesky, Petrocelli
Lowell, Schilling, DiNardo
Hipolito Pichardo
Carl Beane, Mooney, Rowe, Ballgirl Kelly.
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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.
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Always pimping my Red Sox novel, The Curse of Carl Mays