(same rules as the game thread — a three-verse hymn doubled in length)
Patience has broken, chances are waning,
Baseball has spoken: write the Twins out.
Same old imploding, same old explaining,
Same old eroding, nothing to tout.
Right away Zebby gave up a dinger;
Gloves that are webby couldn’t bring back.
Loaded the bases ere a free swinger
Brought in all faces in their attack.
Back-to-back taters (Bell after Clemens) Shut up the haters, made us think grand; Subsequent batters proved to be lemons,
Left us in tatters, game out of hand.
Later, the Kitties picked up insurance,
More of the pity’s all that we feel.
Late in the season, there’s no endurance:
That is a reason far from ideal.
Postseason chances’ digits are single;
Making the dance is doubtful at best.
Spending the autumn hoping this thing’ll
Rise from the bottom, rise to the test.
Change and a fortnight left on the docket,
Better the sport-night looking ahead?
Going down swinging, trying to sock it,
Tops bitter wringing — all that needs said.
(and a bonus verse:)
Comment of Game Thread goes to a Nats fan:
Al in the same thread calling out Trev.
Now to the night game — yes, I’m a Pats fan:
If it’s a tight game, pass me a bev.
