Posted on

The White Sox’ Rubber Soul

by James Finn Garner

You say your batters can’t swing it?
Their whiffing gives you chills?
I got an old-school remedy for
Fixin’ all your ills.

Take all your Louisville Sluggers,
Arrange ’em in a stack,
Then get set for a mighty hoodoo
(There ain’t no turnin’ back).

Now get yourself some love dolls–
You know the kind I mean,
Those cuties made of polymerized
Isobutylene.

Inflate them gals and set them ’round
Your mighty pile of sticks
And pray for their blow-up blessings
And soon you’ll get your licks.

You’ll feel your eyeballs quicken
And your pencil fill with lead,
And by August your White Sox will be
Twenty games ahead.

But don’t blaspheme the rubber gods
Or disrespect their medicine,
Or they’ll do to you just what they did
To Brian Anderson.

Posted 5/12/08 

Posted on

Gavin Givin’ His All

by James Finn Garner

The Sox hopes are buoyed
By young Gavin Floyd.
Could this hurler be one for the eras?

If not, then they’re stuck
With Buerhle’s bad luck
And “forever young” Jose Contreras.

Posted 4/29/08 

Posted on

2008 AMERICAN LEAGUE THREE-LINE TEAM PREVIEWS

BALTIMORE

Is it too late to call Cal?
Or even Bob Bonner?
With Hernandez or Fahey, the season’s a goner.

BOSTON

The pitching staff is shot to hell.
With Schilling, Beckett, and Colon unwell,
They’re Dice-rolling at the opening bell.

CHICAGO

Will the Sox get greedy
With Crede?
Watch your back, Ozzie—or, rather, watch Joe’s.

CLEVELAND

It’s time for the talent to show.
And with any luck (please, God)…
Maybe a new logo?

DETROIT

No injury worries—not even a tinge!
When any Tiger feels a twinge,
They’ll call on Brandon Inge.

KANSAS CITY

Tote that Bale, lift that Gload,
Another long year in KC?
Or a renaissance? These kids are beginning to be.

LOS ANGELES

K-Rod,
And Vlad the Impaler,
And a bunch of young pitchers hopping out of a trailer.

MINNESOTA

No cash for Johan or Torii,
But there’s money for Nathan—within reason—
Though he pitches just 70 innings a season.

NEW YORK STATE OF MIND

The Yankees won’t listen to reason!!
They’ll pull out their Wang
To open the season!!

OAKLAND

What’s that sound from the Street?
Is it Foulke music so sweet?
Oh, it’s Rich Harden’s shoulder, grinding like meat.

SEATTLE

Half the team has reached the big three-oh,
And aside from Ichiro,
There’s a lot of “don’t know.”

TAMPA BAY

They sent Longoria to Triple-A
To reduce his service time? Feh!
This franchise is still the pride of Mephistofele.

TEXAS

Trouble children, like Bradley and Hamilton,
And a pitching staff
Of no wheat and all chaff.

TORONTO

Toronto has Coats.
Maybe they’ll avoid
A cold April.

Posted 3/31/08

Posted on

500 (Thome, Rodriguez and Thomas)

by James Finn Garner

500
Is such an exquisite digit–
The miles in a Daytona race,
Fortune‘s biggest firms anyplace,
And Fiat’s postwar car-midget.

500
The dingers hit by “Big Hurt” Frank,
Of the sweet stroke and bitter knees,
A-Rod, whipping boy for the Yankees,
And Thome, svelte as a Sherman tank.

500
Their several teams never captured it all.
The sluggers pushed on in good years and bad,
Taking what pleasure there was to be had
In campaigns of .500 ball.

500!
Carved into history like Cy Nostradamus.
As Father Time erodes, hobbles and tames,
That mark will always shine next to these names.
500 cheers for Thome, Rodriguez and Thomas!

Posted 10/16/07 

Posted on

Cross-Town Rivalry

by Sheila Bernstein

A tattered scorecard,
A pennant,
An autograph or two.
For most kids that will do as a souvenir from a day at the game.
A double-header; what could be better?

This kid, two to three times the age of your average player, never had a
prayer that she would return home with such a treasure.

It was a foul ball up into the stands.
Grown men ducked, children raised their mitts aloft, but it was I who caught
the ball.

The crowd gave a cheer!

And this kid went home with her souvenir in her purse, and the Cubs beat the
Sox, so what could be worse?

The South against the North.
Oh, how that ball did soar
At this modern-day civil war.

Posted 10/9/07