No baseball poem would be complete without stanzas about steroids, cardboard fans, and the Pitch Clock.
this is from chatgpt, my go-to haiku generator:
Cardboard fans cheer loud,
Echoes of cheers, cardboard eyes,
Empty stands disguised.
Steroids taint the pitch,
Power surges, shadows cast,
Game’s purity lost.
Clock ticks, relentless,
Time pressures, rhythm controlled,
Baseball’s pace evolves.
You forgot Home Run Derby and the 10 man lineup (designate hitter.)
“and the Pitch Clock”. I think that is the most ridiculous rule ever made up in the game of baseball. There is no clock or time in baseball, if the game runs too long turn off the television or get up, leave the ballpark and drive home.