Los Angeles Dodgers 4, Minnesota Twins 3: Late chances stranded
· Yahoo Sports
(original song here; lyrics cover used as reference for parody shown above)
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What can we do
When the Dodgers enter boasting power?
None can redo
Once we reach the game’s appointed hour.
(Always, we’re always watching!)
Can we beat them,
Or will they be sweeping?
Started off when Mookie hit one out,
Certain to deflate a hoping crowd.
But they are determined, there’s no doubt,
Playing all to make their cities proud.
So they’ll meet them,
All approaching, creeping…
Loaded up the bags in bottom two,
Ball avoids the catcher’s clamping mitt.
Scored a run, then Kreidler followed through,
Singling in a pair with timely hit.
But the early score would be receding;
Dodgers always plan on ever leading.
Wouldn’t even take another inning
‘Til the Twins would be no longer winning.
Started with a two-base hit from Freeland,
Then Ohtani came with fervent zeal and
Lined a single into center scoring
Dodger runs, which we are all abhorring.
Freddie took a walk and Mookie singled, (Oh, how they love to get on base,)
Treble Dodgers on the bases mingled.
Muncy broke it up again by cleanly (Oh, how I want to shove a pie in face.)
Zoning on his chosen pitch and keenly
Hitting one to right to tie the tally;
Dodgers batters never dilly-dally. (Why are they scoring still?)
Then a fly to right, again the Dodgers
Take the lead, those wealthy bastard codgers. (Every time, it just makes me feel ill…)
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading.
Can we beat them?
How can we make Los Angeles fall?
Please unseat them,
Find your pitch and hit it past the wall.
It’s getting later,
Running too low on time and on outs,
We still hope but, here, we have our doubts.
Please defeat them,
Give us peaceful sleeping…
Got a couple on in seventh frame,
Scoring chance with Buxton at the plate.
But his RISPy problems hurt the game,
Popping out a painful final fate.
Why must greet them
With a fizzled weeping?
Just a couple innings left to go,
Sunset gold in Minnesota sky.
Feeling there is little left to show,
Staring at the heavens, wondered why.
All our hopes eternally receding,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading.
Bullpen stepping up to do their duty
While a feeble offense hits like booty.
Comment of the Game is easy doin’:
JustAnotherMinnesotan2 in
“Pain of fouling ball off metatarsal”
Earns a nonexistent prize and parcel.
But the game has reached a dim conclusion: (Oh, how they’re bound to lose this game,)
None of us are prone to pained illusion.
Close to victory is not a victor, (So many tried, so many take the blame.)
As you’d know from any game predictor.
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading, (Thursday at least is rest,)
Dodgers always plan on ever leading,
Dodgers always plan on ever leading. (Which I think we agree is best.)
A couple chances late, getting closer to
Scoring a run and knotting the game,
Somehow, we knew that swinging the stick would be
Certain to miss velocity’s flame.
Walk to the exits and pick up residue;
Don’t want to leave a mess for the staff.
Target is quieting, lights are flickering;
If we don’t cry, we’re certain to laugh.
It’s a misery always when swept by the Dodgers;
Joy is stolen away by these blue Jolly Rogers.
They’re becoming the Yankees, entitled to pennants,
Thus upsetting in whole other stadiums’ tenants.
Half the season is done, and we’d like to be cheerful,
But a cloudier apathy’s leaving us beerful.
Will they ever be more than just “nearly”?
Will we always be waiting next-yearly?