The hot dogs are tainted so hot sauce them all,
And, I'll fight for my seat,
Where I can both see and can eat,
It's the season for Minor League Ball,
And, everyone knows when the villain is here,
He's moves around too much and knocks over your beer,
Of course, he does not stop,
For he knocks over mom's pop,
He's a creep but, he's also my peer,
My team last season didn't do well at all,
So poorly, their stats I do not recall,
But, I don't dwell on their past,
For that time is cast,
At least until their playoffs in the fall.
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