AL Central 2023 Spring Training Forecast Haiku

By Stuart Shea

Chicago White Sox
Best to seek new park
Before taking the field with
A terrible team.

Cleveland Guardians
An empty cave, just
Like the Guardians’ lineup,
Hasn’t any bats.

Detroit Tigers
Actual prospects,
Bringing April to those who
Want to hope again.

Kansas City Royals
Tethered by contract,
Regardless of performance—
To Witt: 11 years.

Minnesota Twins
By the river live
Siblings united by love
For their baseballists.

Hank Greenberg

by Michael Ceraolo

I was anything but a natural athlete:
it took a lot of hard work to get to the big leagues,
a lot of hard work to stay there,
and a lot of hard work to have the success I had
And there was a whole new set of pressures:
to play on the High Holy Days or not?
After consulting with a rabbi,
I played on Rosh Hashanah but not on Yom Kippur
I remember the pressure I felt because of my religion,
from those who wanted me to succeed and from those who didn’t,
especially when I was chasing the Babe
I remember the ethnic slurs I received
from opponents, fans, and even the occasional teammate,
well beyond what anyone til then had to endure
And with all that I’m sure
it didn’t compare to what Jackie had to endure
Jackie had some nice things to say about me,
and I hope I lived up to them

For Jim Price (1941-2023)

by Stuart Shea

Curve—yellow hammer—breaks down hard
Can the pitcher keep it in the yard?
Was it tougher to catch a pitch
From Mickey Lolich
Or to scaffold Ernie Harwell’s last act?

Now a voice of memory is stilled,
But promises were fulfilled.
He won a ring. He did his thing.
Known from Marquette to Flint,
His life’s work a flash, a glint,
A wind wafting through dozens of summers.

Stu Shea, the co-founder of Bardball, is the author of numerous books, including Calling the Game: Baseball Broadcasting from 1920 to the Present.

A Ballad of Baseball Burdens

by Franklin Pierce Adams

The burden of hard hitting. Slug away
.   Like Honus Wagner or like Tyrus Cobb.
Else fandom shouteth: “Who said you could play?
.   Back to the jasper league, you minor slob!”
.   Swat, hit, connect, line out, get on the job.
Else you shall feel the brunt of fandom’s ire
.   Biff, bang it, clout it, hit it on the knob –
This is the end of every fan’s desire.

The burden of good pitching. Curved or straight.
.   Or in or out, or haply up or down,
To puzzle him that standeth by the plate,
.   To lessen, so to speak, his bat-renown:
.   Like Christy Mathewson or Miner Brown,
So pitch that every man can but admire
.   And offer you the freedom of the town –
This is the end of every fan’s desire.

The burden of loud cheering. O the sounds!
.   The tumult and the shouting from the throats
Of forty thousand at the Polo Grounds
.   Sitting, ay, standing sans their hats and coats.
.   A mighty cheer that possibly denotes
That Cub or Pirate fat is in the fire;
.   Or, as H. James would say, We’ve got their goats –
This is the end of every fan’s desire.

The burden of a pennant. O the hope,
.   The tenuous hope, the hope that’s half a fear,
The lengthy season and the boundless dope,
.   And the bromidic, “Wait until next year.”
.   O dread disgrace of trailing in the rear,
O Piece of Bunting, flying high and higher
.   That next October it shall flutter here:
This is the end of every fan’s desire.

ENVOY

Ah, Fans, let not the Quarry but the Chase
.   Be that to which most fondly we aspire!
For us not Stake, but Game; not Goal, but Race –
.   THIS is the end of every fan’s desire.