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nsolo
06-14-2007, 01:25 PM
There once was a team from south of the loop,
who's talent on paper the the fans got duped.
But on the field they couldn't hit worth spit,
and everyone said they smelled like p**p. :wink:

RadioheadRocks
06-14-2007, 02:01 PM
World Series Champs
Like eating potato chips
Can not have just one! :D:

tebman
06-14-2007, 02:02 PM
Found scratched on the bullpen wall:

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come...

KenBerryGrab
06-14-2007, 02:51 PM
Bee Bee Richard, Harry Chappas,
Juan Agosto, Kevin Bell
All took the field
Leaving sad tales to tell

Walter Williams, Mike Caruso
Steve Trout and Claudell
Sox fans felt their pain
A little too well

So two years removed
from our gonfalon dream
We are stuck with an aging
most lackluster team

Will we cry? Will we run?
That's a North Side thing
This too shall pass
Hey, pal, show me that ring

voodoochile
06-14-2007, 03:06 PM
Soxual Healing
(with apologies to Marvin Gaye)

Ooh, now let's get down tonight
This team is cold like December
We need some winnin’
And man, I can't take it much longer
We’re not getting stronger
And when I need that feeling
I want Soxual Healing
Soxual Healing, oh baby
Makes me feel so fine
Helps to relieve my mind
Soxual Healing baby, is good for me
Soxual Healing is something that's good for me
Whenever my tear drops are falling
And my belief we can win is leaving me
There is something I can do
I can go to the ballpark and see them, and
I hope they’ll be there to relieve me
The wins you give to me will free me
If you can’t tell how I’m dealing
I need Soxual Healing
Get up, Get up, Get up, Get up, let's play ball tonight
Wake up, Wake up, Wake up, Wake up, 'cos you need to do it right
I felt so sick this morning
A sea was storming inside of me
I think this team is capsizing
The waves are rising and rising
And when I get that feeling
I want Soxual Healing
Soxual Healing is good for me
Makes me feel so fine, it's such a rush
Helps to relieve the mind, and it's good for us
Soxual Healing, baby, is good for me
Soxual Healing is something that's good for me
And it's good for me and it's good to me
Please take control, just grab a hold
Of your body and minds soon you’ll be winning
and then we’ll feel fine
Pods and Erstad are the medicine open up and let them in
Please Sox be great let them operate
I can't wait for them to operate
When I get this feeling, I need Soxual Healing

thomas35forever
06-14-2007, 03:52 PM
'07, we shall never see
A season that sucketh like thee

eriqjaffe
06-14-2007, 03:58 PM
Aardsma
Bukvich
Prinz
MacDougal
The bullpen spending's way too frugal

UserNameBlank
06-14-2007, 04:01 PM
Hickory dickory dock
We can't hit and our bullpen sucks
Hickory dickory dock

eriqjaffe
06-14-2007, 04:12 PM
Dye and Crede
Gooch and Buehrle
This white flag talk is way too early.

GoGoSox05
06-15-2007, 03:11 AM
It’s so hard to watch the White Sox this year,
from the way they are playing the only thing clear
is that they’re no good, and I won’t mention names-
because it’s pretty much everyone that is to blame

Every night that I tune in- it’s like watching a replay
of the game that the southsiders blew yesterday
the offense might come up with two or three scores
it’s once every few weeks that they drive in more

But it rarely matters how many runs they get
because the bullpen inevitably pitches like s**t
We are last in the league in nearly every stat
We show no enthusiasm—our play is just flat

There may not be hope for this season at all
No Sox fan expects to be playing come fall
But I will always love the Sox—and even though they cannot play
I will root for them through the 162nd day

And when I get mad at them I remember the fall
Of 2005, when our boys won it all
I remember the joy they brought, the feeling that had been
And if only for a moment, I’m a little less mad at them

SoxandtheCityTee
06-15-2007, 09:08 AM
I'm calm now, I think
Garden sunshine, ballpark dogs
Bittersweet summer

tebman
06-15-2007, 12:07 PM
Once upon a long night dreary, while I pondered, tired and beery
Over many an odd and trivial matter of old White Sox lore,
While I nodded, idly scowling, suddenly there came a growling,
As of someone's noisy howling, howling at the bullpen door.
"'Tis some groundskeeper," I muttered, "howling at the bullpen door.
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I recall it, when the bat was on the ball it
Brought such noise above the wall it brought the runner home to score.
Eagerly I wished the new day; - vainly I had cried a "hoo-ray"
From my seat along the aisleway (aisleways whose clutter I abhor)
For the rare and radiant pitcher whom the coaches named NoScore -
Nameless here for evermore.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `NoScore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `NoScore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Open here they flung the bullpen, when, from what had been a fool-pen,
There had stepped a stately southpaw of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with thousands going crazy, took his spot amid the roar -
Perched upon a rubber stepstone just above mounded floor -
Perched, and stood, and nothing more.

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the man whose fiery eyes now burned into the batter's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the seatback's plastic lining that the park-light gloated o'er,
But the scoreboard's animations with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
We shall see, ah, nevermore!

Pitcher!' said I, `thing of evil! - pitcher still, if player or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that Oz we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow burning if, with stomach slowly churning,
He shall clasp a happy scorecard that indicates No Score -
Clasp a rare and treasured scorecard, where the others do not score?'
Quoth the pitcher, `Nevermore.'

And the pitcher, never saving, strikes a-craving, still is shaving
On the fuzzy edge of strikezone just above the batter's floor;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the park-light o'er him streaming as he yields an ugly score;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!


(With apologies to E. A. Poe. He had to have been a Sox fan.)

russ99
06-15-2007, 01:33 PM
Once upon a long night dreary, while I pondered, tired and beery

(With apologies to E. A. Poe. He had to have been a Sox fan.)



You win. Simply awesome.

The Critic
06-15-2007, 05:57 PM
This year it has been very hard-sma
To watch MacDougal and David Aardsma

I thought for sure this team would hit
So far the offense has played like ****

The sluggers aren't slugging and they're much too slow
These Sox don't have much Go Go Go

Are they too old? Have they gone stale?
Is Kenny preparing the fire sale?

I'm just thankful I was alive
on October 26, 2005

Goose
06-15-2007, 06:18 PM
Roses are red, violets are blue
These White Sox suck
and so does the farm system.

tebman
06-15-2007, 08:17 PM
Roses are red, violets are blue
These White Sox suck
and so does the farm system.
:rolling:

Here's another one:


THE BULLPEN,

WITH A LEAD TO NURSE

SHOULD SIT BEFORE

THEY MAKE IT WORSE
http://www.stinalisa.com/Bsign1.jpg

jabrch
06-15-2007, 08:44 PM
****

We suck

voodoochile
06-15-2007, 11:17 PM
Once upon a long night dreary, while I pondered, tired and beery
Over many an odd and trivial matter of old White Sox lore,
While I nodded, idly scowling, suddenly there came a growling,
As of someone's noisy howling, howling at the bullpen door.
"'Tis some groundskeeper," I muttered, "howling at the bullpen door.
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I recall it, when the bat was on the ball it
Brought such noise above the wall it brought the runner home to score.
Eagerly I wished the new day; - vainly I had cried a "hoo-ray"
From my seat along the aisleway (aisleways whose clutter I abhor)
For the rare and radiant pitcher whom the coaches named NoScore -
Nameless here for evermore.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `NoScore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `NoScore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Open here they flung the bullpen, when, from what had been a fool-pen,
There had stepped a stately southpaw of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with thousands going crazy, took his spot amid the roar -
Perched upon a rubber stepstone just above mounded floor -
Perched, and stood, and nothing more.

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the man whose fiery eyes now burned into the batter's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the seatback's plastic lining that the park-light gloated o'er,
But the scoreboard's animations with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
We shall see, ah, nevermore!

Pitcher!' said I, `thing of evil! - pitcher still, if player or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that Oz we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow burning if, with stomach slowly churning,
He shall clasp a happy scorecard that indicates No Score -
Clasp a rare and treasured scorecard, where the others do not score?'
Quoth the pitcher, `Nevermore.'

And the pitcher, never saving, strikes a-craving, still is shaving
On the fuzzy edge of strikezone just above the batter's floor;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the park-light o'er him streaming as he yields an ugly score;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!


(With apologies to E. A. Poe. He had to have been a Sox fan.)


No need to apologize. That was awesome. Of course The Raven is one of my favorite all time poems...

:thumbsup:

In fact, I liked it so much it's...

POTW (http://www.whitesoxinteractive.com/rwas/index.php?category=13&id=3403)

Frater Perdurabo
06-15-2007, 11:31 PM
This is the way the team ends:
This is the way the team ends:
This is the way the team ends:
Not with a bang but a whimper.

- T.S. Eliot

tick53
06-16-2007, 09:33 AM
There was a young fellow named Ozzie
and a guy in the booth with a schnozzie.
"We can't swing the bats".
"The umpires are rats".
I'm going to go kamikaze.

RedHeadPaleHoser
06-16-2007, 09:46 AM
Our team is stuck
We're down on our luck
We're mired in muck
Who wants to......WIN.

eriqjaffe
06-16-2007, 04:03 PM
It amazes me
Just how far things can fall in
Only two years' time