The outlook wasn’t brilliant down in Washington that day.
The score stood three to nothing with one inning more to play.
There were two outs and no one on. The crowd had no hopes that
The Donald, mighty Donald, would soon get a turn at bat.
But Bannon strode up to the plate—the bottom of the order—
And asked the catcher, “Did you sneak your way across the border?
“I know you are a Mexican—a most unsavory man.
“And once this game is finished, we’ll deport you if we can.”
Bannon stood beside the plate and hate filled up his mind,
He smashed a pitch and put it just inside the right-field line.
The fielder’s throw held him at first. He flashed an evil grin
And shouted, “All we’re going to do is win and win and win.”
The next man up was Spicer, who was batting next to last.
You’ve never heard a ballplayer talk more loudly or so fast.
His eyes bugged out, he ground his teeth, he snarled and he sneered.
The catcher heard the umpire say, “This guy is pretty weird.”
Spicer was a pitcher and was known throughout the land
For his combative throwing style. When pitches left his hand,
They made opponents laugh and mutter time and time again,
“I’ve never seen a pitcher who was so inept at spin!”
Spicer stepped and dug his cleats into the batter’s box.
His turns at bat were always news—especially on Fox.
Spicer hit a grounder and somehow the ball got through.
Now Bannon stood on second and Spicer was safe too.
With two men on, the fans were hoping for a winning play
When from the on-deck circle stepped Kellyanne Conway.
Her first swing clipped the baseball, but it went flying foul.
Rules say strike, but she said, “No, it’s alternative ball.”
The pitcher threw a knuckleball, and Conway swung and missed.
The fans began to mutter, “We don’t like the looks of this.
“Her batting average isn’t good, and though she has the nerve,
“She misses on the change-ups and she cannot hit a curve.”
With just one pitch now standing between victory and defeat,
Conway chopped the baseball right toward the pitcher’s feet.
The pitcher tried to fire to first. Instead, his effort floated.
It got there late. Conway was safe, and bases were now loaded.
The fans full knew the consequences of the pitcher’s blunder,
And up arose a mighty roar that sounded loud as thunder.
The women waved their handkerchiefs, the men tossed up their hats,
For Donald, mighty Donald, was assured a turn at bat.
The Donald raised his hand aloft to silence the crowd’s din,
And said, “This is a victory that I alone can win.
“Hillary was a loser and Obama was one, too,
“But all will watch in shock and awe at everything I do.
“I know that we’re down three, but I inherited a mess.
“What other batters would do now is lose the game, I guess.
“But I will stand here at the plate, and with a mighty swing,
“Will hit a winning homer and make baseball great again.”
The Donald swung at the first pitch, but all he hit was air.
He ran his little fingers through his oddly colored hair.
The pitcher quickly threw again and Donald watched it go.
“Strike two!” the umpired shouted out, and Donald shouted, “No!
“Fake strike!” he hollered. “Phony ump—for sure your eyesight’s failing!
“It’s all Bill Clinton’s fault!” he cried, all sputtering and wailing.
He kicked the dirt, he kicked the plate, spat on the umpire’s shoes,
Which led the ump to say, “I’ve almost had enough of you.”
The Donald scowled and then he turned to swing another time
And looped a flaccid pop fly high along the left field line.
The ball flew like a dying bird and drifted toward the stands,
Where it was caught by a young boy, who grabbed it with his hand.
The Donald stood there pouting in a raging consternation.
“These crooked pitches all require investigation!”
Then he turned to face the pitcher, who smiled wide, then he
Fired a fastball past the Donald. The umpire called, “Strike three!”
In the postgame locker room, Donald spotted a reporter,
And with an energetic wave, he shouted, “Come on over!
“It must have been a thrill for all the media to see
“How I turned defeat to a win—and singlehandedly!”
The sports guy said to Donald, “What’s all this you talk about?
“You didn’t win the game at all. In fact, you made an out.”
The Donald said, “You loser! Did you watch the game at all?
“I hit a winning homer high above the left-field wall.
“It was a hit the likes of which the world has never seen.”
The writer said, “You hit a foul. I think that you must be
“On drugs or drink. A youngster caught that ball with just one hand.
“And now you say that your weak sauce was really something grand.”
The writer turned and walked away. The Donald muttered, “Sad!
“I won the game all by myself. He must not understand.”
But all his teammates glared at him, and one began to shout,
“It was no homer that you hit. The Donald has struck out.”