Net54 Poet's Corner

[cgjackson222]

Originally Posted by Yoda

There once was a Group called Net54.
Who dreamed of old baseball cards galore.
Their card knowledge was great.
Except when it turned to hate.
And called each other a whore.

There once was a group of card nerds,
Who lost their way and used their words,
To stroke hate and inflame,
Rather than praise the old game,
Leaving behind blocked threads filled with turds.

[cgjackson222]

Mathewson, Clemente and Mays,
Collecting your cards I spend days,
I search high and low,
Attending card shows,
I don't think this is just a phase.

[BioCRN]

Hello friend, my father has the card you want to get
Reach out to him at TonyRealName38@email.net
A PSA graded 1914 Cracker Jack Ray Schalk
Sent from my TECNO BD4h using Tapatalk

[GeoPoto]

When in your vaunted pride you hear
The roaring welcome of the stands,
The unleashed hero-tinted cheer,
The echo of applauding hands,
Lift up your head above all men –
Think how these thousand worship you –
Go to it – eat it – pal – and then
Remember Donahue

When headlines on the Printed Page
Rate you the Ruler of the Field –
The war god of a golden age
That reels before your lance and shield –
Take in the boost of voice and pen,
Say, “Here at last, I’ve drawn my due” –
Swell with the thrill of it – and then
Remember Donahue

What is there left to curb you now?
The world is at your steel shod feet,
The laurel grips your clammy brow
Where no man comes who might compete:
So lift your beaker up again,
Nor turn to Time’s remorseless cue –
Here’s how – Cobb, Matty, Walsh – and then
Drink one to Donahue.
— Grantland Rice, “Donahue Eulogy”