A poem written mostly by TCB’s Stan Dupp celebrating the end of the Astros’ seven game losing streak on June 23, 2019. Also credit to Orlando Cepeda
Reviewing, consolidating, concluding . . .
There once was a guy named Altuve
With a swing that was perfectly groovy.
He liked playing ball
But that wasn’t all
He sold groceries in short TV movies.
He and friends Carlos and George
Drew viewers increasingly large.
So Alex, their buddy,
Became a new understudy
To give their sales efforts a charge.
But after a while
The three went on the I.L.
Leaving Alex to mop up,
But he started to pop up.
Of that there can be no denial.
Now today they are done with the first frame
And so far it isn’t the same.
Verlander is dealing
And Altuve is feeling
How it was before he went lame.
And now our left-fielder Brantley
With an RBI swing that is saintly
Puts Jose on his horse
(He scores, of course)
And the lead increases, though scantly.
[this verse contributed by Orlandocepeda:]
A young Astro who wears 44
Came to play when Correa was sore
Hit a home run per game
(What’s up next, Hall of Fame?)
And a permanent place in the core.
Though T. Dubb has hit lightly of late
He is still a force at the plate.
And with bases all juiced
He finally let loose . . .
Sending one high, far, and over the bullpen gate.
At the end of the day in the bright Yankee sun
The Astros were winners and proud to have won.
And in between hitting zingers
He chewed on his fingers,
Blum’s “adorable” little sonnuvagun.