Already?

by Stephen Jones

Doesn’t matter which team you like —
Pitchers and catchers start this week.

“This year it’ll be different,” you avow . . .
Based on what you don’t know right now.

No matter — speculation and hope abound,
And never touch winter’s frozen ground,

And while right now it might be cold and gray,
Dreams float like clouds on a summer day.

 


Published in Fans, Pure doggerel, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | 1 Comment

Life is Good

By James Finn Garner

Winter’s been raw as a campout in Banff.
Your new basement walls are moldy and damp.
Your drapes caught fire from a knocked over lamp—

.         Relax!
.         Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Your check-writing hand’s developed a cramp,
Your bills are all due and you ain’t got a stamp,
Creditors cling to your neck like a clamp—

.          Smile!
.          Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Your yard now faces a new freeway ramp.
Your son is engaged to a gold-digging tramp.
Your “guitar hero” neighbor’s just bought a new amp—

.         Life is good!
.         Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Breaking news makes you break out in a rant.
You want to stop watching; duty says you can’t.
I fear Lady Liberty’s being measured for implants–

.         With luck we’ll survive,
.         And pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

 

First posted 2/13/2008; updated 2/15/17

 


Published in Uncategorized | Link to this poem | 1 Comment

The Curse of the Billy Goat

by Mark Vincent

R. I. P.  Billy Goat Curse, 10/06/1945 – 11/02/2016

It started in Game Four of ’45
When Murphy, Billy’s goat, came to the game.
The Cubbies led the series, were alive,
About to claim some World Series fame.

The goat smelled bad and he was asked to leave.
His owner, Billy, wasn’t very happy.
He cursed the team; they lost. Chicago grieved.
The decades since, well, they’ve just been crappy.

But that, my friends, is finally in the past,
That blasted curse has now been laid to rest.
The pennant, then the Series won at last.
The Cubs can now stand proud, they are the best!

In seven games, and then an extra inning,
Chicago’s Cubs have found a new beginning!

 


Published in Ballparks, Chicago Cubs, Chicago Cubs, Former Teams, History, Sonnets | Link to this poem | No Comments

Family Celebration

by the Village Elliott

For My Great-Uncle Art

Pleased Cubs fans celebrate victory,
Happy for part of my family:
Mom, who’s from near North Side
Tempered Dad’s Redbird pride,
My St. Louis baseball legacy.

Never had Chitown antipathy
All pervasive in Dad’s family.
Cubs were Mom’s first team,
Cuddly in the extreme,
Part of my gonfalon legacy.

I’ve learned, suggest no Cub fan forgets:
“Fickle Destiny Oft Fails Fans, Vets.”
Fate slammed ’68’s door
On my Cards’ destined score
And “eighty-sixed” the’86 Mets.

 


Published in Chicago Cubs, Fans, Former Teams, History, Limerick, New York Mets, St. Louis Cardinals, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments

The Visitors

by Raphael Badagliacca

Of all the moments in the game
none is more lonely than this . . .
when the visitors wildly exclaim
their joy and celebrate
their happy fate
the less than one percent
like marauders of old
in the sacred home they desecrate
while thousands look on in stony silence.

 


Published in Ballparks, Fans, Free Verse, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | No Comments

Family Celebration

The Visitors

Poetic Legacy

Five Million of Our Closest Friends

AL East

NL East

Extra Innings

AL Central

NL Central

Poems by Type

AL West

NL West

Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.