by Sara Davis Buechner
Gravity’s Rainbow
by F.X. Flinn
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
Torii Hunter is Retiring
By Stuart Shea
Farewell, Torii,
Always a good story . . .
With your amazing catches,
Your religious dispatches,
Your homers and doubles,
Your OBP troubles.
You don’t like gay marriage,
But you don’t have to get one,
And I hope you enjoy the rest of your life,
With your kids and your wife.
Dedicated to Dad
by the Village Elliott
For sons Edinson, Bobo and Mort
Volquez started Royals’ World Series play
After learning Dad just passed away.
Just like Cards’ Cooper knew,
And Bengals’ Bobo, too,
Back in forties; each team won that day.
———————————-
The Royals’ Edinson Volquez threw the first pitch of the 2015 Series yesterday, having learned on the way to the park that his father had died earlier that day. He pitched six innings with no decision, though his team won in the 14th.
In the 1940 World Series, Detroit Tiger Bobo Newsom shut out the Reds in Game 1 with his father in attendance. After the game, his father died. He dedicated his victorious Game Five start to his dad. Asked to also win Game Seven for his Old Man, he replied, “I think I’ll win this one for Old Bobo,” but lost 2-1.
Three years later, the Cardinals’ Mort Cooper learned his father died a few hours before his Game Two start against the Yankees. Pitching to his brother Walker, he won the Cards’ only game in the 1943 World Series.
What a Season — And It Ain’t Over Yet
by James Finn Garner
So now, my friends, it has come to this,
The World Series of 2015
The kids ablaze on the New York Amazin’s
Versus the Big Blue Royal Machine.
Let’s consider all that’s gone before
As we bid the warm weather goodbye
Some teams did roll as had been foretold
While others came through with surprise.
The new Cubbie kids swung some mean bats
The Blue Jays refused to show fear
Motown fell dead, now needs a retread
While the Giants await an even year.
The Dodgers in their close-ups again blinked
Staid St. Louis became hot and unglued
The Nationals sputtered, then throttled each other
The Lone Star State watched a marvelous feud
So when someone tells you baseball is boring,
Whether online, at work, in a bar,
Don’t chuckle or sigh. Look them straight in the eye
And say, “Baseball’s not boring — you are.”