An Ode to Willy Taveras

In honor of the Rockies' erstwhile centerfielder Willy Taveras' abrupt departure from the Mile High City, I've taken time out of my "busy" schedule to honor this occasion with a bit of poetry.  Onward, ho. An Ode to Willy Taveras Oh Willy Taveras, though your feet are fleet To me, the bench holds your permanent seat It's a shame you're not our problem anymore For when you reached base, you would normally score But therein lies the issues that be Your two bum legs and .308 obp As you flailed at pitches, Skip Hurdle turned terse And filled out his lineup sans you hitting first This irked you greatly, and doth you protest That your stolen-base record placed you with the best You came to the ballpark with your mind on a mission But you still hit .204 with runners in scoring position While Spilly was sparking an anemic offense You were misjudging flies as you high-fived the fence While we'll never forget your NLCS Game Two game-saver The tastes in our mouths are ... (link)