* Our friend Dennis Kuhn from lovely San Diego checks in again, this time with an ode to the end of the season
Ode to the End of a Season
So this is how a season dies?
In blazing glory without the fries?
Without the shake? No Happy Meal?
A losing record, that's the deal.
Cincinnati has a team
All dressed in Red, but turning green
With envy at the teams that find
Their records are the winning kind.
The Reds, in fact, are losers still
For nine straight years they've popped that pill
A bitter one that goes down rudely
Even though you chase with Hudy.
No baseball after Sunday's game
The Reds are done, they came up lame
Their injuries were just too many
Their bad luck was too uncanny.
Then there were some Sophomore Slumps
Some arm fatigue and lousy umps
The players all had bright red hats
But mostly looked like L-ville Bats.
The summer months, they really smelled
"The worst Reds ever!" fans all yelled
At GM Walt the finger points
His roster moves stunk up the joint
Just when the team was most in need
Old Jockettey was smoking weed
How else can Cincy justify
Eight and nineteen through July?
From 5/29 to 8/22
The Reds made us all very Blue
Just 14 wins those fifty games
The fans deserted from the shame
But once they had a healthy crew
The team seemed to know what to do
They won with zest and zeal and vim
25 and 12 since then.
And now the Pirates come to town
As this long season's winding down
On Sunday we can all look back
And hope the Reds are on the track
For Cincinnati's off-season
Starts all too early for the fans
No more ball games? What to do?
Hockey? Bah! Maybe horseshoes
But that's a lot of shoes to throw
'Til March and April's rosey glow
The layoff may make fans go batty
Except for trade news on C-NATI
We'll miss Joey "The Bat" Votto
When he heads north to Toronto
Keep it warm and keep it real
There's nothing like a home-cooked meal.
And Homer Bailey as he hunts
Through darkness of the winter months
Homer, let us make this plain-y
Please have better aim than Cheney.
As Dusty chews his toothpicks down
The manager will leave the town
Dusty Baker, go drink wine
And chew through redwoods, larch and pine
But come back ready, all ye Reds
To make your fans get out of beds
And make the trip to see you play
We long for happy summer days!
Where ballparks gleam in green and brown
Where players gleam with hope, no frowns
Where organs play and fans all sing
Where kids can eat most anything
Where ball on mitt, where crack of bat
Where our team won't be their doormat
Where fans all cheer their team to score
Where winning makes attendance more
So buck up, fans, and raise your chins
Stiffen lips and start your grins
No long faces, no wet beds
There's always hope for next year's Reds.
-- Crowd Noises is an occasional user-submitted blog from readers like you. If you have a column in you that just needs an audience, email ctrent@cnati.com and you could be more than just another voice in the crowd.
"even though you chase with Hudy"....BRILLIANT!!!