New York at the Bat: A Parody Tribute to a Lost Season

With new contracts inked as the dawn did appear,

Hope bloomed in the city, fans clapped and they cheered.

Mets and the Yanks, with fresh faces in sight,

Dreamed of October, of playoff games at night.

The promise of victory hung in the air,

As new names were penned with the utmost of care.

But as fate would have it, and dreams can deflate,

Yet love for the game, in New York, remains great.

At the year's dawn, fresh contracts aligned,

Nimmo, Díaz, Verlander, the Mets GM had signed!

Senga, Quintana, Narváez, and Ottavino too!

A roster renewed! World Series dreams they'd pursue!

Across town the Yankees with signings of their own,

Hopes of a title, in their hearts had been sown.

Both teams geared up with stars old and new,

Ready to chase glory, the anticipation grew.

With the new signings, the Yankees sought to mend,

Aaron Judge, a titan, on him they depend.

Carlos Rodon and Rizzo, signed with cheer,

Even Kahnle and Cordero would contribute, no fear!

Together they stood, ready to play, full of hope and alive,

For World Series glory, they'd ardently strive.

In a city where baseball's more than a game,

Mets and the Yankees, both eyeing the fame.

Just as the World Baseball Classic drew near,

Hopes were high, the season’s aim was clear.

With stars aligned, and rosters fleshed out,

They aimed to erase any haters and doubt.

Yet fate swung a cruel and unforeseen bout,

When he jumped in the air, Diaz’s knee gave out.

The Mets’ pitching staff was slightly younger than these guys

In the heart of the city where baseball’s heart beat,

The Mets and the Yanks performed like raw meat.

Escobar, Robertson, a trade spree began,

Max and then Canha! Verlander and Pham!

Away to the Angels, Escobar took flight,

Robertson to the Marlins, in the dead of the night.

Scherzer to the Rangers, a deal that did sting,

Canha to the Brewers, the trade bell did ring.

Verlander to the Astros, a painful sight,

Pham to the D-backs, under the desert’s bright light.

Now the lockers are empty, the fans they do yearn,

For a future when trades will get a return.

The Yankees' hopes once soared with cheer,

But dismay and despair were drowned in their beer.

Josh Donaldson, a vet, brought in with pride,

But his play brought nothing to the Yankee side.

Released from the team, as fans let out a sigh,

A bitter end under the New York sky.

His bat grew silent, in pinstripes he'd fade,

A chapter closed on the trade that was made.

The fans held their breath as the leaves turned to brown,,

In New York, there was no magic number countdown.

Both Mets and Yanks, they had swung with might,

But when October arrived, ‘twas a sorrowful sight.

No joy in the city, as the fans all did pout,

There's no playoffs in New York…. the Mets and Yankees are out.