Browse all poems and songs in the 'Chicago White Sox' Category


Say Goodbye to These Retirees

by James Finn Garner

As the leaves turn from green to brown
And we rekindle antipathy for Joe Buck
Let’s recall players whose careers are done
And their stories of drive and hope and luck.

Jered Weaver, strikeout ace,
Can now just putter around his place.

Atlanta’s Frenchy, Jeff Francouer
Will now as a TV color man tour.

SF fans can thank Matt Cain
For embiggening the Jints again.

Likewise, Ryan Vogelsong
Can practice bird calls all day long.

Joe Nathan will have to find his thrill
Somewhere other than the bullpen hill.

And Nick Swisher, quintessential bro,
Will just leave a trail of grit where’er he goes.

To these and all other retirees
Thank you for the thrilling years.
Now, with us, relax near the TV,
Watch some playoff ball and enjoy some beers.

 



Underneath the Colors

by Dave Mesrey

I’ve seen Cobb and Ruth
roaming below
Shoeless Joe
DiMaggio

Goslin, Cochrane
and Schoolboy Rowe
Dizzy and Medwick
and Murderers Row

I’ve seen Gehrig and Greenberg
the Bomber, the Bull
The Kid and Jackie Robinson
and a house that was full

Jimmy Brown
and Bobby Layne
Old Lem Barney
and Night Train Lane

Yogi and Mickey
Gator and Cash
Don Wert’s single
Kaline’s mad dash

Lolich and Denny
Ozzie and Jake
Old Frank Feneck
at the All-Star break

Seen Marvin
Sing the anthem
Feliciano in blue

It changed the game
and America, too

Saw Horton nail Brock
Dock Ellis in shock

Saw Chuck Hughes fall
Where Butkus stood tall

Saw The Bird in his roost
Saw Gibby and Goose

Sparky and Rozey
Trammell and Lou
Mandela and Rosa
Little Stevie, too

Then Fick hit the roof
and the lights went out
And the ballpark crumbled
and the weeds did sprout

I watched as the diamond
Grew riven with trash
The basepaths and outfield
Scattered with ash

But the weeds were cut
and the field restored
And the heavens opened
and the rains, they poured

Navin Field
Our bond is true
Through the years
No matter the hue

I was lean
I was green
I grew rusty and blue

Like Harvey Kuenn
and Rod Carew

I am tall
I am frail

I am old
and I am grey

I am the flagpole
And I am all that remains

 

This poem first appeared in the blog for the Navin Field Grounds Crew.



Crosstown Smashup

by Hilary Barta

Kyle Schwarber just put on a show,
Delivering blow after blow
Despite his great clout,
One didn’t go out
So to third he strode, beating the throw.

 



3 Limericks for Jose Quintana

by Jim Siergey, James Finn Garner and Hilary Barta

The Cubs having traded for “Q”
Can the faithful sit back and say “Whew”?
He’s a whiz with the rock
And maybe will shock
If he hits well leading off, too.

Is Quintana the cure for what ails
The fakakta Cubs and their fails?
He racks up the innings,
His fastball well spinning,
And he’s quite accustomed to wails.

Finally, if Kyle Schwarber had been in the blockbuster trade as rumored:

So the Cubs and the Sox make a trade
The rotation up north will upgrade
And the Hose get a bat
That can’t run ‘cuz he’s fat
We’ll see just which team has been played.

 



All-Star Clerihews, Part IV

Joey Votto
Never gets blotto
But does enjoy the occasional beer
With that crazy Molina, Yadier.

Ender Inciarte
Prefers Commedia dell’arte
And Restoration plays
To the pap on B’way these days.

Nolan Arenado
Boasts much bravado
But jumps high as a glider
When surprised by a spider.

Nelson Cruz
Hates to lose,
Which makes his time in Seattle
More of a battle.

Jose Quintana
Can drive up the Dan Ryan-a
Take the Drive over
And finally pitch in October.

 

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