How Not to Draw a Walk
By Hilary Barta
Some players are known for their spit
Far fewer for something they writ
This unusual bat
Should have its own stat
And with it the guy got a hit!
Toronto’s Ernie Clement comes prepared for class against the Cubs on August 16, 2024, Players Appreciation Day.
Obituary
by Dave Margolis
Joe Andrews died on Monday
Played a little ball in the minors
Back in the early 50’s
Quit when he was 24
Terrible drunk
He beat that in time
Got married
Sold cars
Had 4 daughters and a son
But in his playing days
He helped out a skinny colored kid
That the locals were mean to
Joe carried a bat with him
When he left the locker room
A Louisville Slugger
And when the diners refused to serve
The skinny colored kid
Joe would sit in the bus and eat with him
He didn’t know someday the kid would be
Henry Aaron
That didn’t enter into it
Joe just saw a scared skinny kid
That folks were mean to
Joe drank too much
He couldn’t run a lick
And it was just a matter of time
(Once they started curvin’ him)
But he knew how to use that Louisville Slugger
Joe Andrews, who in fact died in 2001, helped Hall of Famer Hank Aaron overcome racism in the early days of his career. Andrews and Aaron played with the Braves’ Class A farm team in Jacksonville in 1953. Andrews backed Aaron as he endured racist taunts and slurs, and carried a Louisville Slugger to scare away attackers when he was with Aaron on the street. While Aaron went on to break Babe Ruth’s career home run record of 714, Andrews struggled with alcoholism, and his career fizzled. He quit baseball at 24 after three years with Jacksonville. Later he quit drinking and helped prisoners in his local county jail who suffered from addiction.
MLB All-Onomatopoeia Team
1BÂ Â John Kruk
2BÂ Â Tick Houston
SSÂ Â Sibby Sisti
3BÂ Â Crash Davis
LFÂ Â Jim Zapp
CFÂ Â Bing Miller
RFÂ Â Buzz Boyle
CÂ Â Steve Swisher
LHPÂ Â Brian Bark, Doug Creek,
RHPÂ Â Zach Pop, Craig Dingman, Whammy Douglas, Yorman Bazardo
MGRÂ Â Dink Mothell
The Last Brooklyn Dodger (January 9, 2021)
by Bill Cushing
Lasorda’s at his heavenly rendezvous,
his heart giving its final drop of blue.
He became a foul-mouthed savior
and then his team’s ambassador.
Still, before Brooklyn was a borough,
the team began by making heroes.
When Jackie broke the racial limit,
the Dodgers forced all sports to pivot.
Then, a Moses drove them to exile
by denying them space, and meanwhile
as Bridegrooms to the Yankees,
O’Malley packed up the team to leave.
Departing Brooklyn with a series ring,
they bid Tommy addio with the same thing.
A former New Yorker, Bill Cushing lives and writes in Los Angeles as a Dodger fan (by order of his wife!). His latest collection, Just a Little Cage of Bone (Southern Arizona Press), contains this and other sports-related poems.