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Browse all poems and songs in the 'Cleveland Indians' Category


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 



A Man Named “Pronk”

by Stu Shea

He hits like a God

And runs like a statue.

If you throw a fastball,

He’ll line it back at you.

Before the DH,

He might have been stuck

In minor-league ball

With a lot of bad luck.

Would his defense have been mocked like poor old Smead Jolley’s?

Booting balls like he’s starring in Flo Ziegfeld’s “Follies”?

Who knows? He’d still be a hero while swinging the wood.

If we “designate” Hafner, just designate him “good.”

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