I’m not sure when, if ever, I’m going to post the poem I wrote from, roughly, midnight to 12:38 am on Thursday morning. It doesn’t have a title yet.

But I’m putting the first stanza up now so it’ll jog your memory and you can go “Oh, this must have been the day after the Derrek Lee trade and two days after Bobby Thomson died” or whatever if I ever post it, perhaps in edited form. Usually I try to react pretty quickly, so I wanted to let you know I’m still doing that. Despite the Nash-esque meter or lack thereof, however, this is pretty dark in overall tone.

I don’t hate the Yankees. They commit no sin
That’s worse, very often, then daring to win.
I don’t hate the Cardinals. If they win the crown
Of the NL Central, then good for their town.
We’re no crosstown rivals that fight for a city;
We’re strength against strength, not slackers versus gritty.
I don’t hate the Reds. They’ve been strong as of late
But it’s not that easy to get me to hate.


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