I had no idea when I suggested it that the subject of Barry Bonds would beckon the muse Calliope into the hearts of my pals. More than likely, it’s because his name is so mellifluous and works well in the limerick form–“Da da dada da Barry Bonds“, or “When Barry Bonds dada da Da“–and because his colossal head is so freakish that it reminds people of Renaissance paintings of Baby Jesus with the features and limbs of a fat 30-year-old.
But whatever the reason, 12 limericks have been submitted, and Barry hasn’t even reported for training camp yet. We could have an entire chapbook ready by Opening Day!
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