The Feast of Lenny Dykstra

Today, we raise our cups (and/or licorice candies) and commemorate solemnly three lives.

Hear our prayers, oh unnamed and unnameable!

Lenny Dykstra!
You don’t appear to’ve figured out
the finer points of civilian life,
have, in fact, been dispossessed
of your business ventures, all known assets,
and, it would seem, most of your dignity.
But you were also the sort of person
whom people felt compelled to address as “Nails”
and memorably announced that you would “stick it”
to great left-hander Steve Carlton.
You have taught us unknown lessons!

Circa 2007, you were the surest of things, Alex Gordon,
and yet have failed to produce even five wins for your career.
Martyred by a sickening combo package of circumstance and Dayton Moore,
your pain is our pain!

You burned household furniture to ward off demons
and threw your fastball at around a hundred miles per hour.
We begrudge anyone who views these qualities as mutually exclusive!