O Jacoby, we hardly knew ye, you had feet as fleet as Mercury
The kind of baseball player countless children try to work to be
Yet can't play that way if they train all day, up at the start of morn
Ye of more speed than Hanley Ramirez and more pop than Michael Bourn
O Jacoby, you were an angel in the eyes of many analysts
With your speed and decent bat they were high on you like cannabis
Most said you were a second-rounder, some pegged you for the first
All seemed ready for your speedy best, not one fathomed the worst
O Jacoby, you should have traded some speed for field vision
Perhaps that would've spared you from the fateful collision
'Twas at least as painful as falling off a ladder
For the BoSox and thy owners, that day was black like an adder
Since instead of getting mad or even, you got hurt
If 'twas college I guess you would get a red shirt
But you're in the pros, which means that you missed
A huge chunk of time on the disabled list
O Jacoby, the brave, tried to get back on the field
Although the fractures in your ribs still hadn't healed
So with each step it hurt - 'twas no surprise when
You had to be placed on the DL again
O Jacoby, may you heal, may you regain your fire
May you play the game longer than Mark Mulder or Prior
May you run like the wind with a head full of steam
I'm so glad that you're not on my fantasy team
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