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Well, it's still National Poetry Month, so I will present you with a bit of doggerel, due to Franklin Pierce Adams and singable to the tune of "Vive la Compagnie". It's been earworming me for the past hour.
(And don't talk to me about the Padres. Just don't.)
These are the saddest of possible words:
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
Trio of bear cubs, and fleeter than birds,
Tinker and Evers and Chance.
Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,
Making a Giant hit into a double -
Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble:
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
(And don't talk to me about the Padres. Just don't.)