You’re A Flop!

by Patrick McCaughey

With apologies to Cole Porter:

You’re a flop!
You’re U.S. Steel!
You’re a flop!
You’re an Arby’s meal!
You’re the bunch of bums
That keep my Tums stock low.
You’re Zsa Zsa’s hubbys!
You’re those Poor Cubbies! You’re Broglio!

You’re the mistakes
Of the “Ishtar” writer!
You’re the brakes
On James Dean’s Porsche Spyder!
You’re a worthless nine,
You’re Jewish wine, you suck!
You’re that black cat!
Sosa’s corked bat! You’re Banks’ luck!

You’re a flop!
The futile prayers I prayed!
You’re a flop!
The ‘84 parade!
You’re a trip to hell
To where Piniella’s coaching next!
You’re Elia’s hate!
You’re Zimmer’s pate! You’re really hexed!

You play as poor
As warped LPs do!
Yes even more
Than Ticketmaster fees, too.
You’re the cause
Of much applause for games you drop!
In St. Louis and New York, well, you’re the top!

You’re a flop!
Each fall I cry a river!
You’re a flop!
You’re Harry Caray’s liver!
You’re the thing
That hits in spring like Tunney’s punch!
You’re watered gin,
A Cardinal win, a Pete Rose hunch!

You’re as unsure
As Yogi Berra’s diction!
As a tie score
When Carlos Marmol’s pitchin’!
My heart can only take so many flubs!
It’s no disease that’s gonna kill me-
It’s you Cubs!

 


Published in Chicago Cubs, Songs and Parodies | Link to this poem | No Comments

To Mike Francesa and Boomer Esiason–with no love

By Stuart Shea

If we let newborns have time with dads,
They’ll never develop the requisite ‘nads

To preside on AM radio courts
About how these softies are wrecking sports

By bringing in stuff like “love” and “hope”
To an audience raised on slackjawed dopes.

 


Published in Players, Pure doggerel, Scandals, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | No Comments

Jackie

by Anonymous

He waited
In the whiteness of the afternoon sun;
Black man on green ground.
He waited
In the silence of the tongue
Black man on green ground.
He waited
In the path of his words
White broke his bones;
Black man on green ground.
He waited
As few men have ever
waited
And endured
Before a multitude
as no man before,

O,
To have conquered the white sun,
blinding
To have sailed the sun and ridden
its joy
in tears
And
in laughter.

To have ridden the white sun,
blinding
And to be
struck
struck
struck
by the rising
Of
Your
Own
Black
Sun.

Your crown was white;
…and waited.

.
Found on the Baseball Almanac site.


Published in Free Verse, History, Los Angeles Dodgers, Players, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments

Backstop in Bloom

by Jim Siergey

It’s Spring!
Flowers
is blooming
Tyler’s hitting full tilt.
But, Dang!
The hours
are looming
we know Flowers will wilt.

 


Published in Chicago White Sox, Players, Pure doggerel | Link to this poem | 1 Comment

“The Golden Voice of Vin Scully” by Dan Bern


Published in Los Angeles Dodgers, Songs and Parodies, video | Link to this poem | No Comments

Backstop in Bloom

“The Golden Voice of Vin Scully” by Dan Bern

Rick Monday

April 8, 1974 (Side 1, Track 1)

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Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.