CC, I Miss the Mets, Too

Here it is,
A video of a chap fell running,
He’s caught in sideways rain,
The wind tearing at his gear
With the same sound as that on Everest.
It’s daylight, but he’s heading into the night,
And all I can hear
Is one of my neighbors,
Using baby talk to talk to her baby
So that everyone this side of Scotland
Can hear her little effing voice
Booming babble that no one really can stand.
I was close to going Oakley on his last visit to MSG,
But had the dignity of Walt and the savoir faire of Keith
To reign in my Virginia amigo’s assertive language,
Realizing the smarter play for this Mr. Gray was
To get back to the peace of ultramarathoning.

(Shut the sliding door.)

1 Comment

  1. Wonderful, CH! Let’s start with the Mets of the 60’s. the Mets who started in the Polo Grounds (the favorite team of my old best friend Johnny – who passed way too young in his teens), and work our way to today’s team. Then we’ll see about Miss Hottie. All the best. —CC

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