Lions, tigers, bears, oh my.
These are sports teams, yes, but why
Isn’t there a team named after
An animal that inspires laughter?
Chicago Squid? Seattle Seagulls?
New York Newts? Boston Beagles?
Who wants to see the ducklings hit it!
I sure so! I just don’t get it.
Filed under Poems
I’m very proud if my teammate, Ted
Who always… ALWAYS… Gets out of bed.
You really proud of my teammate, Ben,
Who almosy always gets a few out of ten.
I’m really proud of my teammate Jon,
Who really has improved a ton.
But I’m noy proud of my teammate Rick.
Our MVP… What a dick!
Filed under Poems
The dream team took the field
Before the final playoff match,
And so the game was cancelled
Without a single catch.
Thus ended what had promised
To be a splendid day,
For if the field has been taken
Where is one supposed to play?
Filed under Poems
Yesterday we witnessed
The biggest day of sports,
Which makes all the cups and series
Completely out of sorts.
It had been hyped for months
By that unbiased ad
Run by one guy, who says the other
Is really, really bad.
In yesterday’s match, two teams
Faced off to see just who
Got the pleasure of controlling
Their State, Country, and You.
The elephants and donkeys
Kicked and spat and grrred
And threw mud at each other
As if mud were an angry bird.
And then the fans arrived
To dance around the polls
While others searched on Google
For nearby grassy knolls.
The match begins! The ballots flow!
Single lines are drawn!
Proposed measures are considered!
The game continues on.
And at the end both teams will claim
That it is they who won the game.
Then it’s done; That’s all she wrote.
Aren’t you glad you got to vote?
I’m better at sex
Than I am at sports.
It’s really very clear
Since I’m lightyears away
From the MBA
But half a foot from a porn-star career.
Filed under Poems
I need an extracurricular,
And I want to score a date.
I can kind of throw a football
Or throw balls past home plate.
I’m tall enough for hoops,
And in soccer I am grand,
But the greatest sport for getting girls
Has to be marching band.
Filed under Poems
Some sports
Are played on courts
Others on fields or rinks.
Some play on pitches,
But I won’t rhyme with that.
(The reason is obvious, methinks).
Some balls are small
And don’t bounce at all
Others are not even spherical.
Some play with pucks,
‘Specially those Canucks.
This stuff’s proven, widely known, and empirical.
When you win, it’s a joy,
Perhaps more if you’re a boy,
But that debate’s for another occasion.
So yippee for sports
And those athletic sorts.
As for me, I’ll just solve this equation.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 