Posted on

They’re Shutting The Stadiums Down, In A Two-Team Baseball Town, Part 1

by Sid Yiddish

In the city of cities
Of old New York,
Where Manhattan is an island
And Jews in Brooklyn don’t eat pork,

Where they search you on the subway at the drop of a hat and the kings of the sewers are giant super rats, they are shutting down Yankees & Shea Stadiums,

Just like that, without even asking if the fans truly care, and most likely they do, in a two-team baseball town.

Where the dust never shakes too hard upon Ground Zero, whose souls lie beneath, are now called heroes; where greed and lust encrust Wall Street and where a two-team baseball town swings to its own beat.

You’d think the club owners would leave well enough alone and just refurbish and not rebuild The House That Ruth Built from new bare bones, but sadly, Shea is closing too and where on earth will the feral cats that have lived within the bowels of that park for years, where will they run to after that last stadium light goes dark?

Nine lives don’t cut it even when a two-team baseball town probably will gut it, just like they did to CBGB, too.

Is it any wonder why I’m slowly losing interest in baseball?

For more on Sid Yiddish’s poetry, music and performances, check out his My Space page.

Posted 10/2/08

Posted on

Armageddon Somethin’ Goin’ On

by James Finn Garner

Some say we face the End Times,
With ice caps disappearing,
Financial pains and hurricanes,
And war with Russia nearing.

But th’ hills of Armageddon
Will look like fields of clover
If the Pale Hose and Cubs oppose
Each other in October.

We’ll see blue-faced yuppies pounce
On shirtless mokes with mullets,
The Bridgeport night with bombs alight,
and Bernie’s strafed with bullets.

The hordes of Satan’s army
And counterparts from Heaven
Will find that they’ve not much to save
If the Series goes to seven.

Posted 10/1/08

Posted on

Wilson Betemit, Never Ever Get a Hit

by Hart Seely

First base Wilson Betemit
Never ever-ever gonna get a hit.
Pitcher never even have to sweat a bit.
Not with Wilson Betemit.

Second base Wilson Betemit.
Squats like old man take a shit.
Swings like girl with a fake-a-tit.
No good Wilson Betemit.

Shortstop Wilson Betemit.
Called strike three he throw a fit.
On the bench he should-a-sit.
Be gone Wilson Betemit.

Third base Wilson Betemit.
Plays like do not give a whit.
Someday soon he ought-a-quit.
Sick of Wilson Betemit.

Hart Seely is the author of the hilarious 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 9/29/08

Posted on

Land of 10,000 Chokes

by James Finn Garner

Defeating the Twins isn’t easy
In that convention hall they call a dome,
But who could foresee the series would be
Like the Vandals’ destruction of Rome?

The White Sox wasted the season.
The grinders’ swings turned to hacks.
So thoroughly owned were the Sox, they’re showin’
Herm Schneider rug burns on their backs.

Now the players can mutter and grumble
While the Cubbies are showered with cheers.
A Subway Series?  Not this time, dearies.
Check back in another 100 years.

Posted 9/26/08

Posted on

Only In New York

by Sid Yiddish

My hair grows gray upon hearing the news that they’ll soon be closing Shea.
Not that it seems fair, but the graying of my hair comes on the heels, that
The House That Ruth Built is giving way to a brand new stadium, just because team owners weren’t happy enough with what they had before.

Out with the old, in with the new.
The cost tremendous, but guess who pays it?
Why it’s me & you!

Yes, it’s us, the ordinary fans, we always get stuck with the bill, but as they say in New York, time marches on.

Still, I’ll bet you 10 to 1, that’s not what Moose or Seaver would have said.

For more on Sid Yiddish’s poetry, music and performances, check out his My Space page.

Posted 9/25/08