The NLCS, and Beyond

by Ember Nickel

The lead off third–most of the way around
The basepaths, yet the distance still to go
Looms large. The runner checks himself, has found
He can’t turn back; and he is left with no

Choice but to run, break forward, and defy
The pitch itself. Time slows, a run appears
From desperation, being forced to try,
And jaws that dropped pick themselves up for cheers.

What remains now, when superstition’s gone?
After imposed fake narrative, what’s left?
The game itself finds more plays to spin on;
Out of the blue, a miraculous theft.

One needn’t be a loser to love story;
There will be space for small moments of glory.

 

Designated Heartthrob

by Hilary Barta

The hitter whom teammates call ‘Schwarbs’
Obliterates screaming fast orbs
His outfield decisions
Might lead to collisions
But admit it, this he-man’s adorbs.

 

Because Nothing Rhymes with Schwarber

by James Finn Garner

Sluggo! Sluggo!
My eyes went all bug-o
And I gave myself a hug-o
When into the lineup you were plug-oed!

Ya big bald lug-o
You give our heartstrings a tug-o
Don’t pull out the rug-o
Or let us get smug-o
Now let’s toss the Tribe in the jug-o
Welcome back, Sluggo!

 

The Season, the Best Since Forty-Five

by Millie Bovich

You know Caray, up in Heaven, followed each and every game
Although without his booming voice, it hasn’t been the same.

But the coaches and the fans alike were giving all they had
And the Cubbie team reciprocated, winning games like mad.

Some games were rough and tumble, and some an easy nine.
Fans took the bitter with the sweet, no reason to malign.

They studied all opponents, not a game they chose to lose,
And the coaches had much input and advised with all their clues.

The loyal fans attended, Wrigley almost burst its seams
For the season, best in decades, for the season of their dreams.

While the schedule wore on daily from the first game to the last
And most the time we celebrated, watched the home team blast.

The “Ws” were piling up, and fans were quite amazed
With wins from Kyle and his bunch, Chicago woke up dazed.

And when the season ended with the stats all in the books,
Our Cubbies ended right on top, no more the dirty looks.

Now way above old Wrigley Field there flies the pennant flag.
We’ve reason now to hold heads high, we’ve reason now to brag.

And the cheering, oh the cheering, is reverberating now
From Chicago, Mrs. Murphy, and the famed O’Leary cow.

So Caray rests so peacefully, a smile upon his face.
At last his team, Chicago Cubs, has surely won the race.

Soon the Indians come a’calling, and there’s fervor in their eyes
We are ready, set for action – GO CUBS! GO BEAT THOSE GUYS!

 

While Millie Bovich is our senior Tigers correspondent, she also claims a loyalty to Chicago due to five years’ living in Riverside and Des Plaines, IL.

The Baseball Gods Have Decreed

by Stephen Jones

The gods of summer are blowing
Great white baseballs in the air,
And they are shaking thunder
Like the roar of a stadium crowd.
They have selected the best:

They have chosen Cleveland and Chicago,
Two saga-like teams — and each with
A history they’d like to rewrite
(As well as with a lakefront view).

Soon enough, they’ll wrestle and grapple
For baseball’s ultimate crown.
Which will it be —
Win-dy Chicago or Cleveland-I-am?