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Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Jim,
Thought you would like to know your web-site was mentioned in a Free Press article by Ernie Harwell a few weeks ago.
just making y’all aware, in case you weren’t already, of the joe torre haiku “contest” going on at http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/10/19/joe-torre-haiku-contest/
Jim:
Just want to thank you first of all for writing “The Silver Lining or Atleast the Yankees Lost”. It clearly
expressed my sentiments along with the sentiments of most other Tiger Fans I know. And second of all for sending the autographed copy! I’m looking for the appropriate frame. My husband is a huge Yankee Fan, I of course am not. But rest assured it will be hung proudly in a place of honor!Thanks Again!
Just found your site, thanx to my daughter (who found your postcard in a Seattle store). I wrote most of my baseball poetry before the Selig Strike of 94-95 … some is in “Romancing the Horsehide” (McFarland, 1993) and more coming out this spring in A BASEBALL FAMILY ALBUM — see
http://www.pocolpress.com/getBookDetail.php?bookID=000033
Are you in any way connected (yet) to SABR (www.sabr.org) which has a national network of folks devoted in various ways to baseball & the arts?
Or to the Baseball Reliquary? Or the L.A. Bards?
GC
Jim-
Love the site. I’ll send you a few lines one of these days.
surlyh
I can get boistrous with my sensitive heat Fresh joke! Which side of a dog has the most hair? The out side.
Thanks!,
Would you publish this haiku composed by my wife?
David Wright
David wright does not
Succumb to injured digit
Whether hand or foot
Carol S. McDade
Jerry Manuel
optimism waning
rain without a cloud
Pay-Rod left our town
To seek fame and great fortune
Pity his poor choices
David wright concussed
the mark of Cain on his head
is he disabled?
Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog. 🙂 Cheers! Sandra. R.
A BASEBALL POEM
A foul off the bat
is simply that recovered
then
handed off to younger hands
an exchange a part of history
Here is a baseball riddle I made up. I sent it to Tim McCarver who said it was too easy. Is it? We know Tim is smart.
At some point during a scoreless game Team A scores one run. Thereafter each team scores 2 runs in its inning until the game is over. Who wins?
I’m gonna say Team A, but I’m probably wrong, Batman.
Here’s a hint. The team that just finished batting is always one run ahead. So the tean that bats last wins.
Nice, Ed, I could feel it. Even if was the Yankees and not the Red Sox and Fenway Park.
DiMAGGIOs IN THE OUTFIELD
Fungos
and fongools.
May the Blue Jay of Happiness Fly Up Your Nose
Is pitching a sport or an art?
Reyes lost twenty-eight straight
Which isn’t that great
But all in all it’s a start.
The Yankees/Mariano Rivera
I guess there’s a question of ageing
Waging within this team
Locker room the tabloids & else wise
Whatever it is a chatter ream
But tell me how Mariano Rivera
Now still scares batters?
How one pitch delivered
To perfection crafted over years
Still splinters ash
& confounds?
After a record 1000 games
His home still the mound
Maybe This Time (Hah!)
Th Red Sox started off in slings
But now they’re in the thick of things.
This is the team that I remember–
Giving us hope until September.
Pretty impressive preceding Jim Daniels in the line-up. Now, if I can just get on base…
James: Love your site. Discovered it late last season while writing poems for this new book…
https://www.createspace.com/pub/community/give.review.do?id=1082778
Will send some originals your way this season– have seven or eight in the works right now. Would love it if you find “Tased & Amused: The Shocking Poetic Recap of the 2010 Baseball Season” worthy of mention.
Best,
mxf
for mxf–
Don’t tease us
Or tase us.
Just please us,
Amaze us.
Fourth of July
Doubleheader.
Third inning. Second game.
This is where I came in.
INSTANT REPLAY
Baseball & fallability?
A sport of humanity
Of human error
Of endless furor
“He’s safe! He’s out!”
But baseball is not
An exercise in replay
Whatever current sway
Complained during
Winter months expectation
& lifetime dreams
Caring little for precision
Just passion
(More for the argument
“He’s safe! He’s out!”)
,,,and the Living is Easy
The Sox are our team says the Bahd
Plus the students who haunt Hahvahd Yahd.
Just enjoy if you wish
This great summery dish.
By autumn, you know, we’ll get scrod.
Roses are Red
and lightening bugs glow
Just leave the game
Zam-Bra-No
(1 minute poem on a $5 bet)
Marisa Tomei is quite the fox
BUT
Jim Thome’s got 600 knocks
Mantle
An Oklahoma flash
Out of “shucks” and a beer can
He swung for pleasure
I’ll never see his like again,
My favourite hitter, Ferris Fain.
In London, Amsterdam and Paris,
They talk of nothing else but Ferris.
He always managed to amaze,
This handsome batsman of the A’s.
Glowering at Bowering by Pseud à Nîmes
New York, London, Paris, Munich
Everybody talk about, mmm….
Pop music, aye, and news and sport
But to bardball blast, we must retort
From the bleachers, and godly seats
Loving testimonies – and testy tweets
Au contraire, in Europe there is but little
Interest – like our economy, entirely brittle
In our excitement, we do refrain
From all small talk, of one Ferris Fain
Unknown to us, across the Golden Pond
In our view, his sport just a frond
Of the nascent game we called rounders
Those damn Yankees – cads and bounders! 😉
Note :
In response to George Bowering’s ‘Ferris Fain’.
Totally tongue-in-cheek!
And I’m sure London, Amsterdam and Paris are well represented place names in the US!
Please check out my poem at: http://authspot.com/poetry/those-st-louis-cards-of-2011/
Anytime There’s Baseball
?
Anytime baseball happens
one’s mind is relieved
like dreams sometimes relaxed
by hardball & glove
by bat & smack
No comment. Still waiting for one.
A nice, warm thought.
Cubs-Nationals, Opening Day 2012
As the management turns a new leaf
The old fans are relearning their grief
As the ace, Dempster’s strong,
But then brace for what’s wrong,
And make plans to get burned in relief.
Hey Stu, here are some more haikus:
NEW YORK YANKEES
If I could, I’d pay
to send my problems away
to Pittsburgh PA.
HOUSTON ASTROS
Who’s Who in Baseball
lists every major leaguer,
even the Astros.
LOS ANGELES DODGERS
Not even Magic
could conjure up contention
for these Dodger Dogs.
COLORADO ROCKIES
Katniss Everdeen
might win more Games in Denver
than Jeremy will
Strike Three
By: Samantha Sakolari
The batter stepped up to the plate,
We were hoping it wasn’t too late,
A home run we needed,
So we all cheered and pleaded,
Would this victory be left up to fate?
The first pitch the ump called the ball,
The next pitch was fouled off the wall,
The third pitch went high,
On the fourth we let out a sigh,
As strike two was the umpires call!
The next pitch was called ball three,
Then the crowd shouted with glee,
As the last pitch soared far,
And hit a parked car,
Giving out team the victory!
Fenway’s 100th Anniversary
Red Sox and Yankees
Oldtime “unies” nice to see
Old as rivalry
Humber’s perfect pitch
His done-slider mostly it
Good for The White Sox
“1-2-3?
(Today, April 21, 2012)”
Smooth as a dirt road
Is Yankees/Red Sox baseball
Outside of the box
Balance of power
Forgotten in a bar room
Rivalry enthus’d
Fenway favorites?
Arguably Yankee bats
& sometimes pitching
Whatever contour
Green historic rivalry
Yankees/Red Sox works
Pleading for Clemens-y
All the bailiffs had better beware
Warning signs of the Rocket’s red glare.
The courtroom could end up like Gaza,
With a gavel fired at Piazza,
And McNamee on his derriere.
GET OFF HIS LAWN
Jamie Moyer, long of tooth
Nabs a win at 49.
Never pitched to old Babe Ruth
But babysat him one time.
When Any Lot Would Do
the ground ball skips
kicking up dust
and the smell
of wild onions
gathering stains
breaking stitches
before finally spinning
into the comfort
of a glove
just as worn
Jamie Moyer
When growing old
Is mandatory
Growing up
Is optional
Walk Off
the ball dis-
appears in-
to the night
lifting our
best hopes
to flight
TAKING HIGHER GROUND
Chris Davis’s 0-fer-8 night ended in bliss.
Five times did the DH swing-swing-swing and miss.
So, post-platinum sombrero, why the big grin?
‘Cause he tossed two scoreless and picked up the win.
WELCOME TO THE BUSH LEAGUES
With the Washington Nine on the rise,
They’re the National League’s big surprise.
So I’m thinking Cole shoulda thunk twice
Before making the choice to plunk Bryce
‘Cause now the Nats have fire in their eyes.
IDLE COMMENT
There’s no reason to argue
or to spew
The American League East
is the best
competively
realistically
Boston? New York? Tampa?
Baltimore too?
(And Toronto in the mix as well?)
But to shift gears
and memory/years:
Despite all the hiccups
the HGHs and PEDs
baseball the purity of it
continues to confound/explain
why a summer day or in rain
ball-to-bat glove-and-ball
fascinates us all
David wright scorching
Teddy Ballgame shakes his head
summer slump ahead
SATCHEL RAGE
The loose luggage of Jonathan Lucroy
Makes it tough for Brew Crew fans to enjoy
This stretch of the season
As they squirm with unease
And wonder why a valise would destroy?
Double E6
Peralta sees the hardball skip
Sees the speedy runner tip
To slide for second, flips
The ball to force… no? Oh sh**!
How’s he safe? Man, better get
Ready for the next man’s hit
Campana’s fast, let it rip!
Bang bang out! No?! Frick!
Umps call safe – here’s the Skip
Doesn’t matter, Cubs are slick
And set for win. Jhonny spits
his disgust. Tomorrow…
…he will hit.
Tigers’ Wrigley Haiku
Tigers at Wrigley
Victory thrown to the wind
Sweet Home Chicago
Only In Baseball
Foul poles which are fair,
the hidden ball trick.
Ivy-covered walls,
Willie and The Mick.
Baltimore chops,
in-between hops.
Don’t you love the
stale gum from Topps?
The bullpen phone,
two-out rally.
Farm league down South
name of Sally.
Lazy pop flies,
hustle base hits.
Phantom D.P.’s,
battles of wits.
Nice guys finish last,
The Babe called his blast.
Insurance runs
and radar guns.
Rain delays, then
lost in the sun.
Dropping a hammer
can buckle the knees.
With ducks on the pond,
a suicide squeeze?
Homer Most Foul
(Deep Thoughts with Carlos Gomez)
I lead off the game with a blast to the stands.
Easing into a trot I’m clapping my hands.
The headlines will read “A Tone-Setting Hero”!
But… hey, why’s the scoreboard still stuck on zero?
Stop One Upton Me Already
The hundredth homer by my brother
Inspires my rebuttal– another.
October On A Shoestring
Those Oakland A’s are on the pennant track,
With Billy Beane stalking the giants like Jack.
Up the standings they rise,
A low-budget surprise–
The “Moneyball” Crew is back in the black.
The Tigers hope in 5 thru 9
All will be forgiven’
If we keep on livin’
Oh 5 thru 9 please get on base
I’m not lyin
I’ve been cryin
When you’re up to bat in your place
The hittin coach is at fault, the nerve!
He never taught you to hit the curve.
Oh 5 thru 9 you can ding their ace.
You could really help down the stretch
Maybe it’s Roy’s “Wonderboy” you could fetch
Oh 5 thru 9 join the chase
Only 10 games remain
All year you have driven me insane
Oh 5 thru 9 please help us win the race
Detroit Tigers 2012
Miggy won the Triple Crown; MVP is no debate.
Prince has also put up big while standing at the plate.
J.V. is up for the CY Young; his second in two years.
Max, has been unhittable; he leaves the field to cheers.
Jackson ran the center field, he never left his feet.
Berry couldn’t be thrown out, he just has too much heat. Avila caught the balls and strikes, with a little help from Laird. Peralta and Infante; a descent middle once they’re paired.
Valverde heads the bullpen, with Dotel, Benoit and Coke. When Alburquerque gets brought in, he’s always throwing smoke. Dirks has come through in the clutch; he’s this year’s big surprise. The ball has looked a little big in Delmon’s DH eyes.
The team was led by Leyland; the boss, the chief, the skip. He guided them through every game, McClendon on his hip. This awesome baseball season has been brought to us by God. And, almost every play I watched this year, was called by Mario and Rod.
~ Bradley A. Peraino
http://perainopoetry.blogspot.com/2012/10/detroit-tigers-2012.html
I hope you all enjoy!
Hey, Thanks, Bradley! We’ll get this up soon, probably this week. How’d you hear about us?
A BUSHER AND A PECK?
Pitcher Al Alburquerque
With a move some found jerky
Got to “first base” with a ball.
When he nabbed a comebacker
And gave it a wet smacker,
It made all the A’s want to brawl.
MR. ROGERS, MR. JACKSON AND THAT AWESOME MR. BECK
By Jim Healey c 2002
When the starter starts to struggle
So you think he might be hexed
Just replace him with the trio
That makes batters nervous wrecks
That set of fearsome firemen
Will have those hitters vexed
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
When we lead by just a run
And the game’s been neck and neck
We can call on those three stoppers
Those three aces in our deck
Those Giant mow-em-downers
Loved a bushel and a peck
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
If our starters never finish
We might say, “Oh, what the heck.”
Who cares who gets the victory
When all four have thrown that spec
We’ll rejoice in having hurlers
Whose arms are so high tech
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
I’ve got an epic poem on the history of Seals Stadium but it’s 160 stanzas long!
postseason
uplifting fall
wall-to-wall-wall
baseball
playoff
east & west
best of best
octoberfest
Say YES to NO
This much we know
To close the door
It helps to have
A name that ends in NO
If the Sandman cannot show
We need the other NO
Drugs In Baseball (Part 2)
-with thanks to Carl White
A friend remarked: Sometimes ignorance
is indeed bliss. It allowed us, for a while, something
we could believe in, in what we were seeing.
Knowledge to the contrary has jaded us,
has swept away our innocence,
has tainted awe and trustworthiness.
it has been some time
the sunshine in Flushing rare
Enter Matt Harvey
Born Blue
I grew up with Garvey and Cey
And Russell and Lopes every day
Sutton on the hill
Lasorda so shrill
My heart lived off Stadium Way
And in Conclusion
Yale won the Frozen Four so the Sox can win the series.
That, says my wife, is a non sequitur.
Well, if she doesn’t like my theories
Then I say the hequitur.
TO GO WHERE NO BATTER HAS GONE BEFORE
A tale of a batter renowned
His exploit will always be known.
While the pitcher was taking the mound
Our hero struck out on his own.
The Yanks rotate and twist
We don’t know what the phsst
Who’s on first is a riff
Mark’s thumb is a stiff
Now the A team is the DL list!
37 Major League Names to Sing To
Tate Mee Ott Tutor Ball Gomes.
Tate Mee Ott Tutor Crouse.
Brye Meacham Peterson Crocker Hack.
Hoy Dent Karnuth Hoy Evers Gibbs Brack.
Foor Fritz Root, Root, Root, Forster Holm Teahen.
Imlay Dent Wynn Acker Sain.
Foor Fritz Jahn, Drew, Troy Sykes Yde Houk
Acker Olt Ball Gomes.
The Wambsganss Cure
line drive–
a plague
of baserunners
exterminated–
heal of the glove
Haiku
A game of pepper–
flattened grass keeps getting
back up.
Spring Training
It’s not yet “for real,” but hearing
Baseball talked about on my TV –
Now we’re into March – is a seasoning,
Is a mental “pinch” of expectation, is
A grind of future hardball-and-wood.
Opening Day 2014
What a wonder!
This year it was in the land down under.
Then again, it began.
Way out West came the first test.
Californians appear in the lead
Until the rest get up to speed .
Redbird October
I love America
I love Fall
I love October
I love baseball
Now September is here
October is near!
“Let’s Go Cardinals!”
The St. Louis fans cheer
In unwritten October saga
who will get the win?
Waino, Miller, Wacha,
Lackey, and Lance Lynn!
It’s the top of the first and the Cards field with grace
Bourjos in center field to Wong at second base
Then top of the lineup, Matheny will say,
“is Carpenter, Jay, and Matt Holliday”
I love America. I love Fall.
I love St. Louis Cardinals baseball!
Now it’s bottom of the fifth. Our first baseman is at bat –
last name Adams, first name Matt
With Peralta on deck and Molina in the hole
the Redbirds will surely give it body and soul
In Busch Stadium – baseball heaven
“Go Cards!” is our song
“Go Waino!” “Go Wacha!”
“Go Yadi!” “Go Wong!”
Now in the 7th
from the bullpen is sought
Maness or Freeman
Martinez or Motte
The Cards lead by one
and our pitchers get the call
8th inning Neshek
9th Rosenthal!
I love America
I love Fall
I love October
and I love baseball!
-Steven D. Johnson
9-5-2014
Baseball Record
Five Hundred Eleven – the wins of Cy
near Three Sixty Seven – the bat of Ty
But in baseball heaven, just blink an eye…
and records will be broken
Just look at Babe Ruth – Seven Hundred Fourteen
To tell you the truth, his home runs were seen
to hold a record not passed – thirty-nine years, ‘till alas
Hank Aaron’s bat was woken
Yet there is a record that will ever stand,
but it’s not Ted Williams, and it’s not Stan the Man
don’t look to Tris Speaker, don’t bank on Pete Rose
for this baseball record every ball-player knows
belongs, yes it does, to another
It’s not for stolen bases – though Oakland’s a believer
nor is it held by aces – like Gibson, Ford, or Seaver
No, the sole baseball mark that will hold in every park
belongs to father, son, and brother
The record that won’t break, held through highs and heartache,
is going seven for seven, every baseball season week
since 1911 – now that is quite a feat!
It’s keeping baseball alive since 1925
It’s zero games missed since 1886
It’s giving ballplayers a reason
to thrive in baseball season
Yes, the only baseball record
that will maintain its stand
belongs to the beloved,
committed baseball fans!
-Steven D. Johnson
9.14.2014
Baseball Quickened?
Baseball’s “Pace of Game” committee
wants to make it more speedy.
But, in an effort to quicken the paces
what may be lost of the game’s subtle graces?
Baseball was once the game
that made the claim
it had no clock.
But, now it seems
there are several schemes
to attend to the tick-tock.
To appease the fans,
mostly not in the stands,
with ever shorter attention spans
there are several initiatives
by baseball executives
to pick up the pace:
one by keeping batters in their place
another still to consider
would discourage pitchers who dither.
Where will it end
to get fans to attend?
Perhaps, better baseball education
leads to better attention.
Amen, the game quickens and the subtleties are lost.
first sweethearts, the Cubs –
dumped them for the Mariners –
they fight for my love
SPRING, 2015
My Mets will win games, that much is clear,
With Harvey, deGrom and some others this year.
If Cuddyer can hit, and Flores finds his mitt,
We won’t toss Alderson out on his ear.
But the best is out west, in the dry Vegas air,
Pitching their hearts out as arm tendons tear.
Matz, Monterro and Thor have made themselves great,
But can’t reach the majors ‘til 21 days late.
So fans of the Mets will continue to fret,
Their ownership’s bank account hasn’t recovered yet,
And hope for a year when we surpass eighty-one,
And get to the playoffs ‘fore this century’s done.
No Relief
By David Aretha
The Tigers can hit
And everyone knows it,
Yet it don’t mean a thing
When the bullpen can’t close it.
Detroiters may reign
As kings of the Central,
But they’ll never go farther
When the bullpen is mental.
Valverde chugged water,
Swirled and spit,
And then he’d cough up
The game-winning hit.
Benoit filled in nicely,
But then he got sloppy,
Serving a granny
To the mighty Big Papi.
“We need a sure thing;
Get Nathan, dog gone it.”
But his heater ain’t working;
He’s got nothing on it.
Dombrowski’s a genius;
Stole J.D. from the ’Stros,
But because of their bullpen,
They got swept by the O’s.
I’d deal to the Devil
Miguel Cabrera
If only he’d trade me
Mariano Rivera.
My fellow baseball fan Paul Kocak suggested that I submit this obviously derivative poem about the 2015 SF Giants:
so much depends
upon
a Belt at
bat
frozen by heat
on
the black
again
“Hope” is the thing with pennants*
“Hope” is the thing with pennants –
That perches on the heart –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – till done –
And sweetest – in the Yard – is heard –
And sore must be the arm –
The tiny splash of one ball’s arc
Scribing wingèd Victory –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the foggiest Cove –
That – never – in Eternity,
Did three-ringed Giants swoon – nor fold.
*with apologies to Emily Dickinson
You can take the girl out of Chicago,
And she can live happily in Seattle, but…
????????????????????????
O Mariners! I am about
To lose all hope in you.
Longest active post-season drought?
It makes me feel so blue.
But – my heart took a journey
Up to heaven with Ernie,
And my Cubs dreams may finally come true!
Gravity’s Rainbow
Escobar slashing launching
the booming start
like a kid’s first rocket
the pill going suborbital
speeding to splashdown
in deepest left center
two destroyers of hits
a joint Cuban – Ecotopian op
the fog of roar leaves
them blind to signals
the payload misses
the web deployed
in an instant they see
the horsehide capsule spinning
on the surface and then it’s gone
like Grissom’s Liberty Bell 7
Escobar breaks the siege
races home and later
on the bench winded
applies a pinch on his arm
Let’s sing song.
Fair Ball Lined into His Nuts
Stu Shea
The bigger they are, the more they hurt…
So Juan Uribe got a just dessert
With a liner in the groin.
And that’s not a roll of coins,
And he’s NOT happy to see you.
The Mets Have a New Outfielder
Stu Shea
Brandon Nimmo
Sure ain’t no dimmo.
Don’t come from Pismo and
Don’t use no gizmo.
When viewed thru a prismo
He just wants what’s hismo.
And if he hits like a wizmo
The Mets will not quiz mo’.
Blue skies and green grass
A partner in crime to watch time pass
Sacks of peanuts and beers in hand
Everyone yelling “Out!” as loud as they can
Boxes filled with play after play
A ballpark dog eaten only one way
Lights brighten the night as the sun dies down
Last cheer erupts as the winning pitch leaves the mound
Yanks 5 Royals 4, September 1 in the wee hours
in inning thirteen
see how Betances dances
catching the ball in between
and behind his legs
for a double play
that puts the game away
in inning thirteen
Yanks 7, Royals 6, September 6
This is how it ends:
Two outs bases full
Fragile one run lead
Smoak sends the ball
To the top of the wall
Gardner finds in his glove
Something better than true love.
Rest in Peace
With the Royals in need
the universe responded
thus the Rally Mantis was born.
A beautiful gift
for this suffering team
bringing eighteen wins in his wake.
But now he’s retired
the Royals’ season is over,
and the World Series will see new blood.
The Curse of the Billy Goat
Billy Goat Curse
10/06/1945 – 11/02/2016
R. I. P.
It started in game four of forty-five
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 have 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!
©R. Mark Vincent 4 November 2016
Colón’s Legacy
Colón’s a fan favorite
At age forty-three
Returned to New York
Crowd screaming “Big Sexy!”
A Braves pitcher now
Bartolo took the mound
Struck out six
Only one run allowed
Big Sexy’s reign continues
We must watch in awe
His solo home run
Still the best we ever saw
Colón’s Legacy
Colón’s a fan favorite
At age forty-three
Returned to New York
Crowd screaming “Big Sexy!”
A Braves pitcher now
Bartolo took the mound
Struck out six
Only one run allowed
Big Sexy’s reign continues
We must watch in awe
His two run home run
Still the best we ever saw
(Revised from above)
Casey at the Bat (Limerick)
In the ninth twas Casey at the plate,
with the chance to confirm he was great
The anonymous pitcher
saw his chance to grow richer,
and dispatched star Casey to his fate
Metropolitan Haiku
The greatest pitching
In history is wasted.
Home is Citi Field.
Tinker to Evers to Chance
Many’s the times I’ve seen it
When imminent gloom turns to glee:
From Tinker to Evers to Chance
To end the inning, mark it 6-4-3
From Third to Second to First,
All around the horn,
They proved themselves the greatest
Double Play combination ever born!
Tinker goes deep into the hole
And cleanly picks the ball,
Throws a dart to second base,
The ump calmly makes the call.
At second Evers gets it
Just the way he likes,
He pivots, the ball evanishes
In a blur as he jumps the spikes.
Chance stretches incredibly
As he waits at first,
He gloves the ball, the batter swears,
And so the out is pursed.
This is not to say that they never erred,
Kicked the ball or muffed the play,
But only that they always tried,
Then let the ump have his say.
There is this, then, in contemplation,
The base between effect and cause:
That unpredictable expectation
Is one of Nature’s laws.
THAT BALL
That ball.
Its color?
White with flecks of brown.
Its seams?
Red.
Faded red.
That ball.
Leaves the pitchers hand.
It twists.
Taunts.
Can turn the mighty to the meek
The meek to the mighty
It makes you
It grips you
It mocks you
It sails slowly
It journeys its way to my bat
It keeps you up at night.
Is the perfect antagonist
To any batter
The sad part is
I like it that way.
THAT BALL
That ball.
Its color?
White with flecks of brown.
Its seams?
Red.
Faded red.
That ball.
Leaves the pitchers hand.
It twists.
Taunts.
Can turn the mighty to the meek.
The meek to the mighty.
It makes you.
It grips you.
It mocks you.
It sails slowly.
It journeys its way to my bat.
It keeps you up at night.
Is the perfect antagonist.
To any batter.
The sad part is.
I like it that way.
A Red Sox pitcher named Kelly
Was attacked severely belly to belly
In a wild thrown toss
He Hit the wrong hoss
Which erupted in a bench empty meley
I love to see my Cards team win
But the Reds are so bad, it’s a sin
That stadium is bare
No fans in the chairs
Looks like they’re losing again.
There’s another Cubs game today;
If Chicago weather don’t get in the way.
The Cubs and the Cards
Always go at it hard.
Whenever they gather to play.
Dollar Dog Night at Guaranteed Rate
First he had three, then had three more.
The hot dogs kept crossing his plate.
He had so many he couldn’t keep score.
It must have ben something E-8.
close play at the plate
grinch-like the ump makes his call
tempers flare — dog days
Bygone autumn night
Leephus pitch launched from Fenway
still orbiting Earth
Postseason baseball
time for unlikely heroes
in the autumn chill
highly paid players
errors left, right, everywhere
postseason slapstick
Last out recorded
Sox fans will bask in glory
until spring training
Counting days until
pitchers and catchers report
hot stove league pastime
2Y8WRJ2 http://www.yandex.ru