11 August 2017: Oh Ross, what ruckus must you bring around?

Oh Ross, what ruckus must you bring around?
Content we were before their bats took back
The lead we fought to bring into our ground,
But two home runs allowed creates a crack.
Rich Hill – we see your steel, as tough as nails!
A fastball to the throat did not defeat
Your soul, for you got up with just bruised sails
And did your job before you took a seat!
Productive, Cody was with his three hits,
And Austin hit with clutch, but it was not
Enough since Ross did not possess sharp wits.
Still, in this series, victory is sought.
Ryu takes arms today – last time he pitched
Was stunning to behold…is he bewitched?

8 August 2017: Sometimes the game ain’t meant for us to win

Sometimes the game ain’t meant for us to win.
Despite our many positives last night
And a good start from Kenta, we said fin
Without the lead and failed to solve the plight.
JT went yard two times and Puig leaped high
To rob a dong, but in the end it did
Not matter, for a grand slam stained our try
To make it five straight wins – restart the bid!
The bullpen stunk unusually indeed,
But it’s just one bad game (that’s what I hope).
Today’s a new day to recite the creed
To believe in the Dodger magic’s scope!
An old friend we must face in Mister Zack,
But we’ve got Wood to strike against their pack!

2 August 2017: In baseball, it is hard to win them all

In baseball, it is hard to win them all.
Reminded we are, every now and then
That sometimes we slip up and take a fall.
There’s no such thing as a perfect bullpen.
A light still shines, as Cody ‘gain went yard!
That’s thirty times that he has said goodbye.
But our bats missed some chances to discard
The deficit. We failed to hit bull’s eye.
The Braves have been kryptonic to our streaks,
As they have found a way to bring us down
And deal three losses to us in four weeks –
The only ones since then to smudge our crown!
So Woodn’t it be nice to win again?
I hope this time that Alex can contain.

21 July 2017: It’s better to forget ’bout last night’s game

It’s better to forget ’bout last night’s game.
A fluke it was, but what a wide result.
Sir Wood, though usually good, left mound in shame
As if the Braves had thrown at him insults.
Their pitcher raked against and did much harm.
And when twelve runs occur, it’s hard to come
Back from that gap. Please don’t sound the alarm,
For this was only due to happen some
Time in the season. Even perfect
Teams endure this kind of pain.
It comes then goes and then becomes a blur
That every fan leaves way deep in their brain.
Rich Hill has been real hot, so maybe he
Can end this two-game skid sans victory!

20 July 2017: The streak’s finale leaves me bittersweet

The streak’s finale leaves me bittersweet
For it felt like we’d never lose again!
But baseball’s hard; McCarthy was real beat
And struggled like a lobster’s life in Maine.
Atlanta came out early swinging hard
So coming back seemed not so probable.
We had some chances that we did not card,
Deserting problems that were solvable.
Grandal gave hope when smacking one to right
That brought us within three of tying game,
But after that, no runs lit up the night.
We almost got to amplify the flame.
The good named Wood will face his former mates
Today, as we attempt to close the straits.

2 July 2017: The comeback squashed, and our start wasn’t strong

The comeback squashed, and our start wasn’t strong.
We got on base a lot, but score won’t show
Since we kept stranding as it went along
And could not neutralize Kenta’s so-so
Job on the mound, for five ‘Dres crossed the pent.
Each jam created could not be contained,
So less than four is what Maeda went.
And since the D-backs won, a game they gained.
Our bats were not too bad: a Yaz home run,
Two Corey doubles, and good day for Puig.
Too bad they couldn’t help the game be won;
That would’ve made it such a wondrous week.
Before the works are fired, one day off
To relax before Kershaw molotovs.

28 June 2017: The wreck was bad; we threw away the game

The wreck was bad; we threw away the game
On such a flust’ring error-laden play.
A strikeout ending in a blue-stained shame
When right before, our hopes were up and way.
Yasmani hit that bomb with just one strike
To give before we fell, but tragically
The effort fell just like a flattened bike
And every wish we had crashed rapidly.
Though Trayce unveiled what he could do for us
By driving one real high during the eighth,
And Ryu did a swell job with no fuss,
Our team fell to an undesired fate.
The only hope this series is to draw,
And that seems likely when we’ve got Kershaw.