An Ode to the Inside Fastball
Oh inside fastball, how I adore thee,
Effective at a 100, or even 83.
Dominant in the hands of Ryan, but also in Moyer’s,
When done right, the batters become voyeurs.
Oh inside fastball, why has thou been forgotten?
Come playoff time, pitchers turns to the ones with spin.
But you oh inside fastball, you are the best of the best,
When done right you quicken ol’ Mr. Ticker in a batter’s chest.
Oh inside fastball, you’re like no other,
Coming in on the hands, hell bent to smother
Any intention of a good pull swing,
Another groundout, or popup, the crowd will sing.
Oh inside fastball, they cheer for you,
Ruining the dreams of the ones with dip and with chew.
In on the hands, the batters yelp,
Another broken bat, he cries for help.
Oh inside fastball, you are never wrong,
A good swing, but the ball flies not long,
A damaged Slugger, a shattered psyche,
Now he knows, that you are indeed the key.
Oh inside fastball, you keep them all honest,
No diving over the plate, for they are your guest.
They can’t dig in and drive the other way,
For you’re the best pitch and will make them pay.
Oh inside fastball, why are you so hard?
A mainstay on any veteran pitcher’s card.
But come playoff time they all abandon you,
For dreams of making them chase the slow stew.
On Ode to the Red Sox Season; Inside Fastball
Oh inside fastball, the Red Sox season is sadly over
And now I must face the rest of October as a rover,
Because on a 2-1 count I saw a change,
And Bregman hit it over the exchange.
Oh inside fastball, no more team that I like,
Because Bregman hit one onto the damn Pike,
But even then it was only three to three,
And there was still yet hope inside my body.
Oh inside fastball, I started to turn pale,
Because he was tired, so there went our Sale
Giving way to the beard in Red,
Not a single tear I shed.
Oh inside fastball, don’t you see?
This man Craig can throw 103!
“BUST HIM IN!” I did cry,
But then I realized with my catcher’s eye,
Oh inside fastball, Reddick didn’t quit,
And I started to sense that this was it.
Craig wanted it in, Vasquez did too…
But you started to leak and we were all through.
Oh inside fastball, you caught so much of the plate,
And now my mind, my body, is full of hate
Because Reddick went with the pitch and it’s 4-3,
I’m so full of anger I can barely see.
Oh inside fastball, we can score one in our final AB,
Just make sure Craig keeps it at 4-3,
But Old Man Beltran is at the dish,
And he has just one wish.
Oh inside fastball, there’s no way he can touch you,
So I expect one, so straight and so true,
In on the hands, tying him up,
A KNUCKLE-CURVE?!?! Time to throw up.
Oh inside fastball, he can’t hit the cheese,
But now I’m inconsolable down on my knees,
Cause Craig THREW A FRIGGIN DUECE,
To a man so old he should be on the juice.
Oh inside fastball, now the season is a fizzle,
Cause Kimbrel threw a curve, and Sale the wiggle,
And now the 2017 Red Sox season is truly done,
Because Sox pitchers forgot about you… Mr. Inside… Ol’ Number One.