September 2007 – Bardball

Ballpark Food

What’s wrong with these vendors
Loudly hawking their wares?
An arm and a leg for a beer,
And nobody cares!

Of course I can hold off,
But my kids are entranced
With the cotton candy man
Weaving sugary romance.

He comes down the row,
Waving food at eye level.
Away from us, man!
Your food is the devil!

We’ve brought our own, thanks,
Smuggled in Mom’s big pack,
Peanuts and popcorn
And goodies for snacks.

So enjoy the ballpark
And the shifting strike zone,
But if you want to eat there,
Better take out a loan.

Posted 9/28/07

Change-up, change-up.
He makes hitters clowns.
It floats to the plate
And it sits right down.

Change-up, change-up.
Off mediocre “heat,”
You feel real comfy,
But still you get beat.

I wonder if Hoffman
Throws change-ups in bed
Or if Mrs. Hoffman
Likes it “dead red.”

By Stu Shea

Where’s Manny?
Where’s Manny?
All Boston’s getting clammy.
The Red Sox are in danger of a troubling declanny.

If “Manny being Manny”
Means pulled muscle or strained hammy,
Opponents dance and laugh
Because he can’t give them the whammy.

If Terry F. is canny,
He’ll come up with a planny
To help the Red Sox win it
Even if they don’t have Manny.

But if Coco’s cold and Papelbon
Cannot escape a jammy,
The Fenway Faithful might cry out
For someone else…like…Sammy?!

Posted 9/26/07

by James Finn Garner

Need a sad story? Check out Rick Ankiel,
Whose August exploits made Redbird fans feel
Like jumping for joy. Years past, after Rick’s

Stint as a St Louis hurler had passed,
He traded the mound for some outfield grass.
He leaped and he ran, and when swinging his stick,

He rang up the runs like a pinball machine.
Now there’s suspicion he’s not playing clean.
His once-mighty bat is now a limp wick.

While there’s no proof yet Rick took hGH,
The mess helped derail the Cards’ pennant stretch,
And this feel-good story now makes you feel sick.

Posted 9/25/07

by Tim McClure

The Cubs are in a bit of a slump.
Ninety-nine years is a big hump.

Fans want them to win,
And drinking they’ve been,

Waiting in bleachers like chumps.

When the Cubs lose I get mad,
All of my family is sad,

I kick things around,
My mind is not sound,

And life is generally bad.

I so hate it when the Cubs do lose,
And watching, I still do choose.

Forty-year-old sap,
What a load of crap,

I’m just deranged with no clues.

Posted 9/24/07