The Ballad of Harry Bunte...er, Lunte [Forgotten Cleveland Indians]

I’m gonna write a poem about this guy, entitled “Don’t Call Me Bunte.”

And here’s the first and only stanza:

Filled in for Chappie

When he died,

Oh, Harry Lunte

Had quite a ride.

Three weeks later

Poor ol’ guy

Pulled a muscle

In his thigh.

Yup, that pretty much sums up his career.  Another reason why I love Harry: we have the same birthday, give or take 80-something years.  We shall celebrate together henceforth.

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