Kennedy Loser/IF-121.90

In Literature

Crabs poet Laureate Runolfio Peeper wrote the following poem about Loser's most famous game:

The score was tied, and the time was dire
When Kennedy Loser grabbed his bat.
We shouted his name, a chaotic choir,
As he rose from the dugout and doffed his hat,
He took a step, tripped, and fell down flat.

And at this sign, we all sighed and knew
This game might never end, and also that
This man was a loser, through and through.
The inning was twenty, the hour ticking down,
And Kennedy wiped his hands on his pants.
He minced to the plate, his face in a frown,
He tested his swing and his feet did a dance.
He stared at the pitcher, awaiting his chance,
Then, just incredible! He tumbled to!
He had fallen again, and lay there askance.

This man was a loser, through and through

There were two outs, and a man on first base,
As Kennedy pushed himself to his feet.
Our hopes were dismal as he took his place,
And everyone said he looked slightly beat.
He stood like a stone; felt the first fastball’s heat,

“Strike one!” We all heard. And then a “Strike two!”
He looked gone and lost, like he couldn’t compete;

This man was a loser, through and through.
A double spillover? We looked at the clock.
Kennedy readjusted, tense but unbowed,
And met the next pitch with a titanic knock.
The ball raced away, disappeared in a cloud,
And Kennedy turned and spoke to the crowd

“Ask not what Mother Crab can do for you!”
Then he rounded the bases, beaming and proud.
This Loser a winner, through and through.