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Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket: The Pickler Limerick Challenge

Murmurs from the Losers' Bracket Frank Cerabino 02-20-2023

We here at Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket are excited about how pickleball has now become fodder for poetry.

The current issue of The Pickler newsletter features a story about Doug Snelson, a South Carolina writer who has turned his poetic eye to the game he loves so much. The product is a book entitled Pickleball Poetry: Fun and Whimsical Verses to Dink About.

This may be the first – and certainly not the last – time that pickleball will be rhapsodized in rhyme. And to celebrate, the poetry division at Murmurs from the Loser’s Bracket is proud to announce … drum roll, please … The Pickler Limerick Challenge.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with limericks, think of them this way. If all the kinds of poetry were metaphorically represented by a family, the limerick would be the child who ran off to join the circus.

Some people consider limericks as low-brow doggerel unworthy of serious reflection. But, we here at Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket like limericks just fine, and we’re doing everything we can to promote them.

We’ve come up with some pickleball limericks to get you thinking. 

There once was a pickler named Judy
Whose footwork was no work of beauty
Backpedaling for a lob
From a crafty old Bob
She ended up right on her booty
 
Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket: The Pickler Limerick Challenge | Pickler Pickleball

See? Simple. Think of an iconic pickleball situation and put it into that five-line limerick frame. Like this:

There once was a pickler named Clive
Whose expensive paddle did arrive
It banged and it dinked
It just about thinked.
And yet he remained a three-five.
 

Or this.

There once was a tournament choker
Who played his worst games down in Boca
He’d lose by a bunch
Eliminated by lunch
Then off to the casino for poker
 

We like them even better when the rhymes are forced.

There was an old woman named Nora
Whose mobility appeared quite poor-a
She got men to play
In a gentler way
And then she’d go beat them by four-a.
 

Or …

There once was a poacher named Mona
The scourge of greater Daytona
No matter how wide
She’d play your side
No use objecting, she’s gonna
 

And yes, “the man from Nantucket” sub-genre of limericking is in play, as long as you do it tastefully.

There once was a pickler from Nantucket
Who practiced spin serves by the bucket
Then spinning was verboten
The rules committee had spoken
Causing him to exclaim “Aw, then … the heck with it.”
 

Are you inspired yet? If so, start pickleball limericking and email your best work to frank@thepickler.com

I will compile them, and at a suitable time announce the winners of The Pickler Limerick Challenge. 

I know what you’re thinking. OK, Mr. Murmurs, let’s say I participate in this poetry challenge, what’s in it for me?

Well, first of all, you’ll feel better. You will have wasted your time in a thoroughly surprising way. Don’t underestimate the joy of that.

Beyond that, we here at Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket will feature some of the best limericks submitted to The Pickler Limerick Challenge in a future newsletter. So, you could end up being borderline famous in the budding pickleball limerick community.

And we’ll have some prizes.

The first-place winner will get a copy of my modest-selling book I Dink Therefore I Am: Coming to Grips with My Pickleball Addiction.

The second place winner will get two copies of the book.

Zero-zero-rhyme.

MURMURS FROM THE LOSERS’ BRACKET

Read past editions of Murmurs from the Losers’ Bracket, including:

Frank Cerabino is a long-time columnist for the Palm Beach Post in Florida, a pickleball addict like the rest of us, and a newly published author. Check out Frank’s newly released book, I Dink, Therefore I Am: Coming to Grips with My Pickleball Addiction (available on Amazon and a great read (or gift!) for any pickleball player), for pickleball tips and laughs!

I Dink, Therefore I Am | Frank Cerabino

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