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One Fine Day

by the Village Elliott

For Hank Gowdy

Gee Golly, Boy Howdy,
I just met Hank Gowdy,
Great War hero and World Series star,
Was a Miracle Brave,
Till he joined in first wave,
First pro swap unis, march off to war.
In left field today sit,
With my dad and my mitt,
Can’t imagine a day could be finer,
Till I heard the bat crack,
Heard crowd roar, “Back . . . back . . . back . . .”
I caught home run hit by Ralph Kiner.

I was barely a teen,
Caught betwixt and between,
But grew up to accumulate stuff.
Still my Great Legacy:
Photo: Hank, Bro and me,
One fine day below old Coogan’s Bluff.

 

The VE explains:  “In July, Dick Volk showed me a photo of himself as a young teenager. It was taken at the Polo Grounds in 1948, and included his older brother, posing with 53-year-old New York Giants coach Hank Gowdy. It was another era. In fact, it is exactly 100 years since Hank led the Boston Braves upset sweep of Connie Mack’s ‘White Elephants’, three years before he became the first Major Leaguer to enlist for WWI. My friend met Hank three years after Hank mustered out a second time, having re-upped as an Army physical education instructor for the duration.”

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If We Lose the Playoff Game: An Angry Poem

by Hart Seely

If we lose the playoff game…
You bring the gas, I’ll bring the flame.
You bring the force, I’ll bring the deadly,
And we won’t see any more flubs from Headley.

If we lose the playoff game…
They won’t put Cashman in the Hall of Fame.
Sports Illustrated won’t be right behind him.
They’ll look everywhere, but they won’t find him.

If we lose the playoff game…
Joe Girardi better change his name
And vow to never lose morale,
While hiding out there in the bunker with Hal.

 

Reprinted from the Yankee blog, It Is High, It Is Far, It Is … caught.

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Never Give Up . . .

by Celeste Johnson

Never give up. When you are down, when you are injured,
When you have been humiliated, never give up.
That is mantra of the Orange and Black. Never give up.
Whether through injury or misfortune,
Patches so rough it feels as if you will never win again,
Never give up. Injuries of all description
Shut out three straight. Can’t buy a hit or an out.
Never give up.  Never give in.  Never truer
Than a late September game named to honor
Two Giants in more than just name.
Exemplar to resilience and heart and honoring the game.
In careers revisited of course but also to honor the men that
They are.  Huddy and Z as they are affectionately
Known. Men amongst men. But life rarely conforms
To the scripts that we write. And baseball has a way of
Writing itself.  Refusing to be confined to our smaller vision.
Baseball finds a way to grow beyond the boundaries
That we set for it.  On a day meant to honor the past
The future steps forward to write its own ending.
Future unknown but for this moment
A kid steps into the light to have the game of his life.
And, allowing redemption is Baseball’s beauty.
Blunder in field leads to promises made;
Promises kept.  Parker steps to the plate in eighth
And in answer to wild and woolly game sends
First pitch over the right field wall and
Into History.  Three home runs in single game.
Seven runs driven in.  First Giant since 1961
When Mays completed the task.
Rookie speechless when informed of scope of his feat.
Baseball renews itself.  In a game meant
To honor the past, the Future steps forward.
With beauty and strength and youthful verve,
The kid rounds the bases and, as a stadium exults,
Huddy stands with a smile as big as life,
Just honored to have witnessed its renewal.
And proud to have been a part of this Orange and Black
Family that never gives up. They would not know how.
It is not in their nature.  A fact and feeling that Z can
Attest to, having been the heart of such resilience in postseason past.
Baseball renews and remembers, honoring both in one day.

 

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Wrigley-Turvy-Ville

by Hilary Barta

The Cubs clinch a playoff game berth
The Fat Lady’s checking her girth
Chicago postseason . . .
Where’s logic, where’s reason?
Spin backwards, you beautiful Earth!