When my team is in the throes
of a bottomless batting slump,
I can hit better than that.
When the pitchers for my team
refuse to find the strike zone,
I can throw better than that.
When the infielders for my team
treat grounders like coffee too hot to handle,
I can catch better than that.
When the outfielders for my team
look to other fielders to snag the routine fly,
I can track the ball better than that.
They can’t be that bad, that awful, can they?
It’s painful to a watch a ship slowly sinking
below the .500 water line, glub, glub.
So, stir your spirits, men, wake up those bats.
Add adhesive to your fielding mitts.
Know and have pity that I can’t possibly endure
one more losing season of futility and despair.
Send me in, coach. I can’t be any worse
than the team you are putting out there daily.