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Bat.
Ball.
Ball hit bat.
Move.
Catch.
Just like that.
Swoop throw turn, double play.
Middle bag, here we stay.
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It's Wednesday, oh Wednesday, yes, Wednesday is here,
The Baron is eating his corn flakes and beer.
He's bitter and pissy and drunk all the time,
But he loves writing draft posts and tolerates rhyme.
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We look to the infield, the middle you see,
to find Players who Play with a caPital P.
Shortstops and keystones, what jolly old fun!
Players who catchthrowhitcatchthrowhitrun.
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So young and athletic,
The upside is huge,
The direction they go, though,
Just might get confused.
If that is the case, well, then run for the hills,
The bats on their own might be too small for thrills.
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Jacob Gatewood, SS, Clovis High School (California)
6'6", 180 lbs
Bats: Right
Throws: Right
So, what's so great about this guy?
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The power is big, yes, the power is real.
The power for Gatewood's a mighty big deal.
He's Troy Tulowitzki, but younger by far,
In fact, he's so young that he can't rent a car.
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The arm is big, too, way more than enough,
To throw out all runners on grounders and stuff.
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He moves like an elk, or maybe gazelle,
Or a moose doing ballet, alone in the dell.
His feet slow but graceful, he turns and he throws,
And the ball finds first base, every time on the nose.
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When he swings and connects, the ball screams in pain,
And goes flying sky high, like a bird or a plane.
When he swings and connects, good things come to be,
It's a shame that so often he comes up empty.
His swing is complex, with parts moving around,
Rube Goldberg would call it mechanically sound.
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The worries are mostly him moving to third,
So tall to play short, it's a little absurd.
He just might be too big, and too slow down the line,
So over the corner he may spend his time.
(Or he could stay down past the Mendoza Line.)
The bat is still big at the corner that's hot,
But it's not quite the same if he leaves his short spot.
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He should be a top ten if all goes as planned,
Which makes him a no-go for El Birdos Land.
If he slips or he falls, though, he might be alright,
Though maybe his floor might be down out of sight.
The ceiling is just so impossibly high,
Again, like that dude who plays short mile high.
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Ti'quan Forbes, SS, Columbia High School (Mississippi)
6'4", 170 lbs
Bats: Right
Throws: Right
So, what's so great about this guy?
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Like Oscar Mercado, Ti'quan's quite the follow.
Much too much thin, though; someone get him a taco.
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He's quick on his feet, and quick down the line
A Ti'quan is quick, no matter the time.
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He throws when he slings and he slings when he throws,
But no matter the motion, the ball really goes.
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He's wiry and quick -- did I say quick already?
He's quick enough catchers had better get ready.
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The balls on the ground, the balls in the air
He picks all the balls with an excess of flair.
He's staying at short and at short he will stay,
But how much bat he'll have, well,
That's tougher to say.
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If he's bigger at twenty he might have some thump,
But also like Oscar, that if's quite a hump.
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He hits when he swings, that's never a fear
But to scare major leaguers?
The way's not so clear.
When batting his bat is quite fastedly fast,
So maybe there's hope of a grade that will pass.
if not there's still value
In playing at short,
Though I have to admit
It's a saddening sort.
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The tools are all there and the tools could all click,
And again, did I mention?
He's awfully quick.
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I'm a fan of the 'Quan, and I'm betting the farm.
Plus, more and more shortstops can't possibly harm.
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Greg Deichmann, SS, Brother Martin High School (Louisiana)
6'1", 180 lbs
Bats: Left
Throws: Right
So, what's so great about this guy?
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When he swings there is thunder. It comes from the left.
The thunder is thunderous in its thundersome heft.
He's like that guy Jacob, but caught in a mirror.
The ceiling still high, but the way not much clearer.
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He plays shortstop for now, but may not down the line.
To that question, though, the answer is probably Time.
Maybe moving to third, maybe moving to second,
The future will know which way the spectrum, it beckoned.
His arm is okay, but there's not much to say,
Certainly not black or white, it's just grey.
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But as for the bat, there isn't much doubt.
The sound of the hits carry much too much clout.
It's exciting to see such a promising stick,
I'm restraining myself from a joke about dick.
He swings and he misses maybe more than you'd like
But you'll live with the whiffs when you see Deichmann Deich.
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He sells out for power and sells out to pull,
But his hands usually keep him from looking the fool.
A hitting coach might try to teach him to stroke
The ball to left field and not just go for broke.
If he could, then we'd see
Just how good he could be
And we'd have a fan favourite for you and for me.
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As for the position, I find myself wishin'
The Cardinals might find out instead of just missin'.
There's a chance he stays short,
After all, he's not tall.
Or at least not so tall that he can't see the ball.
For now he's at short,
We should give him a chance.
And maybe find someone to teach him to dance.
His feet are just fine, but it isn't my dime,
So I'll trust someone else to decide it in time.
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It seems the first round might be just a bit high,
But a pick in the forties? Greg Deichmann's my guy.
He might be a risk, and he might be a 'tweener,
But he also might not, so don't be a weiner.
If he's there when the round comes around supplemental,
Pick him and pay him and offer him dental.
Then stick him in storage and wait for the call
The one when he's ready to knock down the wall.
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For me, he moves over
To the second base side,
And he'll hit like Chase Utley --
Well, before Utley died.
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And that, gentle ladies and gentlemen too,
Is a red baron post that you just suffered through.
I hope that you liked it, I hope that you learned.
I hope that your stomach wasn't too badly turned.
I hope that you're happy until we next speak.
And I hope no one dies before this time next week.