THE New York Yankees
saved my life
When I was jobless
filled with strife

Home I'd come
Each summer night
To watch white balls fly
In Bronx-born flight

No cash or credit
Social life
Just MSG network
Cold Bud Lite

Pot of pasta,
Stein of beer
Fifty thousand
Roar and cheer

Jeter, Williams, Cone and Brosius
Torre, Zimmer
O'Niel's at-bat focus

Noblauch, Sojo, Wells and Tino
Stay up to eleven
I'd watch Mike Crispino

In '98 Ruth's House could barely hold 'em
As the Pin Striped Ball Boys proceeded to croak 'em
The Athletics and Red Sox and Blue Jays and Twins
The Rangers and Orioles, Expos, Marlins

Each night I'd watch them
Whether home or away
I fed off their teamwork
And strong, fearless play

Well-oiled and fed
Was Steinbrenner's crew
Prepare me they did
For each day anew

Up early to coffee and NYT sports
Then job searched the pavement
Which the sun did so scorch

But give in I wouldn't
Move forward I did
Kept seeking employment
Stay away from the skids

My job search was long
As this poem surely seems
And as long as the season
of my favorite team

The World Series came
The Yankees did sweep
I landed a job then
And surely did weep

I wept for the Yankees
with joy In my heart
And because the interview lady
Was deaf to my fart

*Honorable mention, asinine poetry literary contest, fall 2001