An Ode to Raul

The night was getting late,
The base paths hardly trod,
Girardi pondered fate
And pinch hit for poor Arod.

The 40-year old bald guy
Sauntered to the plate
And with a timely mighty swing
Sent Arod down the grate.

Oh, Arod tried to smile
But he knew that he had died
A washed up veteran showed him
How to give the ball a ride.

Old Raul brought joy to thousands
Who were mired in a pout
His stellar blast consigned thirteen
To his new home–the dugout.

(via Wayne Kabak, Ben’s father)