Learn about our team through verse !
Conor's so fast he's really a freak
He can run from now till next week
But he busted his eye
When a ball on the fly
He tried to catch with his cheek
"Story Bud?" say the mates of Dermo
A lad who lives in the 'fermo
He's right flush with cash
After a 100 yard dash
With the loot they nicked from the Permo'
Our second base's name is Gill
Who currently is out ill
She'd want to get back
And her softball on track
Before she is over the hill
Eye surgery was the procedure claimed Doyle
To return her bat to the boil
But the source of her hits
Is her new plastic tits
Covered in vegetable oil
At shortstop we decided to try
A lad who stays on the dry
And some thought it fitting
That Jason's hard hitting
Could cause poor old Martin to cry.
From the land of the Hun comes Jens
Who brought along some of his friends
We prefer that his pace
Gets him on base
And improves on all of our trends
Kevin Smithwick's a good man for the beer
He's always willing to lend you an ear
He speaks in a drawl
So slow it's a crawl
A conversation takes over a year
A pitcher named after a beer
We hold him appropriately dear
But what you should know
Is he's terribly slow
A trip round the bases takes a year
Girlfriend of Jens since she began
It must be the girl Westermann
Blonde, German and thin
Drinks cranberry and gin
And of training she isn't a fan
Martin was standing safely on second
When to the ball his nads beckoned
A line drive o'er the mound
With a skip on the ground
And he was out so the ump reckoned
A connoiseur of insults and threats
His mind as dirty as it gets
A star Blazzer of yore
Sure an occasional roar
Is readily blamed on Tourettes
There is an infielder called Hussey
Who appreciates everything busty
He was sent to the outfield
For copping a feel
Of the ladies rushing past 2 in a hurry
His approach may be somewhat rusty
His appetite undeniably lusty
But the infielder named Hussey
Is known to be fussy
When feeling up anyone busty
A brand new recuit called Rich
Was asked "Hey you - can you pitch?"
For with KK on the mound
Wild pitches abound
And cause us to ponder the switch
When selecting for Treasurer's Duty
The criteria should include booty
But what we think is best
Is the size of the chest
And we therefore decided on Ruthy.
Whilst some girls are turned on by Jocks
Or carbon formations called rocks
Ruth's vocal chords spasm
In approaching orgasm
At the sight of a new pair of socks.
Alan Del Rio
A callow young man is Del Rio,
Whose star sign we believe to be Leo,
A strange horoscope,
Told him Aoife to grope,
Which he did with considerable brio.
Amor is a Spanish senorita
who has passion for the game most explosiva.
But with just one good eye
to catch the pop-fly,
the ball 'tween the eyes it may bean ya!
A dark Spanish lady called Amor
From the Base Devils came to our door
But when at the plate
She refuses to wait
And the result is strikeouts galore
What a wonderful challenge is Aoife
For any hard working rhyme seeker
This limerick is crap
All I can turn to is rap
And big up Queen Latifah
Now that she's hooked up with Al,
We can write a good rhyme for that gal,
For getting Aoife to rhyme,
Takes up too much time,
And badly affects our morale.
Our Limerick-schooled OF'er named Casey,
brings a left-handed bat that can strafe ye.
But with one reckless arm
he can inflict great harm...
so with award of 'scud' we shall place thee.
An architectural student called Barry
Has a girlfriend he may very well marry
But his canon-like arm
Is the cause of much harm
When his wild throws we're forced to parry
A student of buildings and design
We hope is like a fine wine
With age will improve
His throwing hit a groove
Or his action he'll need to refine
Swipes hitting is sometimes quite jammy
He once even hit a grand slammy
But his fielding is piss
From giving training a miss
By going home at the weekend to his mammy
A Naughty Nurse is our uniformed Carol
Always dressed in splendid apparel
Gags about sure things
And other insults or stings
Will be deemed to be scraping the barrel!
Carolina's an Argentine kid
With German ancestry well hid
Ogle-bum is her name
Which I'm forced to proclaim
Is exactly what everyone did
A vegetarian is our Caro,
She picks at her food like a sparrow,
A healthy diet we suggest,
To judge by her chest,
And her waist so exceedingly narrow.
He can be a bit of a grouse
A grumpy swede - the ill-mannered louse
He's blond, blue-eyed and tall
And he moiders the ball
It can really only be Claus
Der Goose-stepping Buttfukkersukker
Who looks like the Carlsberg ad Trucker
But if you let this fella
Jump into your cellar
Your freckle will never again pucker
Conor's sister but far more fair
Posessed of lustrous brown hair
A foxy wee chick
She's also dammed quick
So potential suitors beware
Eugene O Callaghan
A man of few words is Eugene
His manner so very serene
But the sheep on his head
Or at least so it is said
Acts like a dose of caffeine
While playing to stay in Prem one,
Our outfielder instead went for fun,
For once not in bed,
But the hair on her head,
Had to be cut and generally done.
From Perth is our Aussie Hayls
A teller of good softball tales
But if she gets too frisky
Just mention the whiskey
And her complexion it rapidly pales.
A big-hitting young lad named James
Causes many outfielders some shames
But a distinct lack of cunning
Hampers his running
And base coaches he readily inflames
In matters of suffering and pain
She's never a one to complain
There's only one type of bone
Can cause her to moan
She's broken the rest has our Jane.
Young Jane was a Craicer, called "Bone"
Who leaned down to pick up the phone
But when she bent over
Rover took over
And gave her a bone of his own.
A Blazzer returned called Joanne
Posessed of a devious plan
A suitably timed wink
To get her free drink
From any young man that she can
Johanna Maldonado Nessi
Along came a girl called Joanna
From the Venezualan savannah
But without any scandal
We've nothing to handle
We'll have to wait till manyana
John is the lad on the bike
A man it is hard not to like
He sleepwalks when drunk
His hitting is junk
He really should wait for a strike
John Eddy's a whiny bitch,
Who swings wildly at each pitch.
When he can't get a hit,
He throws a big fit,
So the scorer disappears through a ditch!
He practices yoga on mats
Sometimes with his girl Kats
It would be more fitting
To practice his hitting
To avoid pop-ups when he bats
An american chap we all like
Used ride a fast motorbike
'Til a corner well hid
Caused an unmerciful skid
Perhaps he should move to a trike
There was a Yank biker named John
Whose cornering skills wern't that strong
He took an apex at speed
and ended up on his knees
and a bike with all of one side gone
A pro poker player by trade
This summer takes on a crusade
He soon ties the knot
As he marries his mot
Best enjoy it before he gets spayed
Katherina - another BaseDevil recruit
when I first laid eyes upon thought was very cute.
So we put her in Blazzer green
of which she's quite keen
and now all will say, "Damn! That does suit!"
The cute Kerry girl named Kats
knows a thing or two about bats.
If John ever talks back
she gives him a smack
though it doesn't help her in the stats.
He's Our Captain and Master Tactician,
Kit Manager and Pitching Magician,
But hitting for height,
Was regarded as shite,
So now he's our team Statistician.
A South African lady named Moore
Would cavort in ways most impure
Neath a parasol she'd lay
Tis a picnic she'd say
But of that we cannot be sure
Lindsey's surname is really quite cute
Suggesting a dodgy repute
A qualified masseuse
But don't therefore deduce
That she'll willingly pull on your flute
A South American named Luis
We signed on a long term lease
A great eye for the ball
And chicks when he calls
Best keep him away from your niece
A Venezualan chap named Luis
So polite he always says please
As he applies for the grants
To get into girls pants
And therein his desires to appease
If it burns like hell when you pee
Take a trip to the VDMD
She'll clean up yor box
Or infected cocks
And blue balls get treated for free
A lovely young girl named Michelle
She has us all under a spell
But the smile on her face
Means this cadet is in space
For in a far orbit she dwells
The Portarlington Pixie is Ness,
Whose hitting was really a mess,
But then she met Ali,
And hence came the rally,
Oh what has he got to confess ?
She comes from the land of the rhino
And Cabernet Sauvignon wino
But while Nikkis quite dark
She goes for a lark
With a Kilkenny Irish albino.
"Hey you! You wanna make out?"
Quite frankly the words of a lout
Handsome and thin
With a big stupid grin
Then you know that Paddy's about.
"My eyes are not blue, they're green!"
Cried Rachel, while making a scene
"They're sparkly and clear,
Like my newly washed gear"
If only her mouth was so clean!
Tis time for a rhyme about Treanor,
By now a seasoned campaigner,
Stop the ball with your mits,
Not your thrupenny bits,
Is the advice from this blonde entertainer.
While John at the barbie was fryin'
Into his rectum came pryin'
Dressed in pink day-glo
A man called Gay Pedro
But his parents they christened him Ryan
Bless Shelleys pink cotton socks
The lads come to her in their flocks
To drool and to stare
At the lassie from Clare
Causing tents to form in their jocks.
On Sundays she likes to do beavers,
Monday it's Golden Retrievers
She ripped up her knee
From ankle to gee
So she now gets around using levers.
We have a new Yank called Steve
He hits very well I believe
He's handy at poker
But what we like with this joker
Is the aces he keeps in his sleeve!
He's an American we can all admire,
The Gentleman Stephen Maguire,
But removing his shoulder,
From its natural holder,
Will cause him, alas, to retire.