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Anthony Claggett

by Hart Seely

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Anthony Claggett,
Your fastball, they flag it.
It floats like a maggot,
They wait there and tag it.
Throw harder, or bag it.
Anthony Claggett.

Anthony Claggett,
We’ll rip you in agate,
Your body, we’ll drag it.
Meet quim, you best shag it.
Or, otherwise, bag it.
Anthony Claggett.

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Hart Seely is the author of  Mother Goose Goes to Washington, as well as Oh Holy Cow: The Selected Verse of Phil Rizzuto, newly released in a 15th-anniversary edition. He often hangs around the Yankee website, It is High, It is Far, It is….caught, offering tasteful and constructive comments to management and players alike.

Posted 4/21/09.

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Long Toss

by Todd Herges

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On the occasion of a young daughter’s unaccompanied airline trip to Chicago

Quietly at the top of his cellular voice,
he calls out to the far-off teammate,
who waits with glove open wide, held chest-high:
“You ready?  Here she comes!”

Ball securely in hand he rears back, kicks high,
and in mental slow-motion lets her fly.
Hope mixes with regret
as he watches the precious pill leave his hand,
a gleaming streaming bullet
arcing eastward toward O’Hare.
His toss is long, thrown out of sight,
and satisfaction from seeing
the entire flight – from his fingers to distant mitt – is lost,
absent the echoed smack
of ball meeting leather.

Alone in his car two hours west of Omaha,
he hears the ball’s just-caught voice:  “I’m here.”
Each day will seem a year
until he safely catches her back again.

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Posted 4/20/09

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Walt Whitman’s Scorecard

by Jonathan Eig

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I SING the Body injected:
The fans embrace me with their massive arms, and I embrace them with mine, bigger;
They will not stop till I am convicted, denying everything,
And destroy their innocence, and shake them with the hormonal growth of the Soul.

Was it doubted that those who inject their own bodies enlarged themselves;
And that those who defile the game now defile the game forever?
And if the body does not grow as much as the Soul?
And if the body were not so large as the Soul, what dosage is required?

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Posted 4/17/09

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The Wings of the Bird

by James Finn Garner

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Every kid thinks that he
Could mow down the heart of the Yankees order
If given the chance,
And someday everybody gets that chance,

And it’s good luck to talk to the ball,
And cheers are love that never dies,
And the world would love you if you showed them who you really are,
And magic can happen at any time.

That kid never dies.
That kid was the Bird.

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In memory of Mark Fidrych (1954-2009)

Posted 4/15/09