In honor of Albert Pujols’ second consecutive MVP award, RSBS wanted to congratulate him and his self-proclaimed biggest fan. And when faced by such a daunting task we turn, as we often do, to poetry.
‘Twas the eve of Thanksgiving and all over the net,
Writers were scurrying to finish posts and then get.
Jeff sat at home, quietly nursing a beer,
Mourning the end of yet one more year.
Leafing through catalogues and picking out faves,
Hinting at presents that could sure make him rave.
When out in the blogsphere the bloggers set a-chatter
And Jeff knew immediately what was the matter.
His eyes both lit up like a bulb in a fixture,
Then swiveled then focused on a framed Pujols picture.
Picking up Albert and dancing around,
Weeping tears of joy as he fell to the ground,
He toasted himself and thought “This truly is living!
More hardware for Albert, what a happy Thanksgiving!”
Apparently my heartfelt tribute to the Cardinals rang hollow in some quarters of the interwebs. And it hurts me to see that while I am on vacation I have to check in to see such vitriol pointed in my general direction. So, because I want to be the bigger man, I decided to write another little ode to the Cardinals. However, this time I will do it in limerick form.
Albert: Another grand slam
McGwire: A forgotten man
Why keep on pitchin’
When Pujols is itchin’
And balls just wind up in the stands?
Is that better, Mr. Lung? Are we square now? Or do you plan to continue denigrating my good faith efforts?
At least there is one thing we can agree on. We may not be number one but it still feels pretty good to be number two. Actually, that just sounds wrong.
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me ‘cuz I’m right.