Kennedy Loser/IF-121.90

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.