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All-Star Clerihews #3

By Hugh Encrye

Adam Wainwright
Played the “unwritten rules” right,
Grooved the Captain a pitch to hit,
Then found himself in a world of trouble.

Miguel Cabrera
The greatest hitter of our era.
Pitch the pill behind his back
And still he’ll give that ball a whack.

Mike Trout
Didn’t hit one out,
But a double and a triple
Ain’t kibble.

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Ballad of Bitter Words

by John Kieran

Why, Mr. Terry, oh! why did you ever
Chortle the query that made Brooklyn hot?
Just for the crack that you thought was so clever,
Now you stand teetering right on the spot!
Vain was your hope they forgave or forgot;
Now that you’re weary and bowed with fatigue,
Here is the drama and this is the plot:
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.

Sir, if they can they will blithely dissever
Giants in segments unequal or not.
Homicide, Bill, is their plan and endeavor;
Staring on Ryan and Jackson and Ott,
You they expect to reduce to a blot.
La guerre a la mort! (Or in German “Der Krieg!”)
Vengeance they want to the ultimate jot:
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.

Detroit awaits you? Says Lopez: “Ah, never!”
Pennant for Terry? Says Casey: “What rot!”
Using your scorn as a club or a lever,
Brooklyn will labor and chisel and swat.
Prize in the bag — now it may go to pot!
(Furnish sad music by Haydn or Grieg),
Bill, you won’t like it a bit or a lot;
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.

 

At the start of the 1934 season, NY Giants manager Bill Terry made the off-hand jab about his local opposition: “Brooklyn? Are they still in the league?” The Dodgers used it as a rallying cry and kept the 1933 champs from repeating, beating the Giants down the stretch in dramatic fashion and helping the Cardinals take the pennant.

Published in the New York Times, September 29, 1934

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The Last Link

by Stephen Jones

It was fall, 1945.  The nightmare,
World War II, had ended.  Now
The world, relieved of pain, exulted
And kissed in Times Square.

But amid relief and ticker-tape,
In Chicago no one knew
That this was just the beginning
Of the Cubbies’ enduring drought.

These words aren’t meant to drag up
A goat’s curse or muddy recollections
Of the “World’s Worst Series”
(Between the Tigers and the Cubs).

No.  It’s 2014, and Memorial Day reminds:
Memories and lives are fading.
The ranks of the best generation
Are getting thinner each and every day.

Closer to home, in dugout memory
Of Wrigley Field, only one link remains:
Lennie Merullo, 97, is the only tie
To the Cubs’ last World Series, of 1945.

Maybe the ’45 Series,
To quote author Warren Brown,
Was truly the “worst” that ever was.
But then, many players were in service

And what is necessary is to recall
That a generation did play ball,
And then went to war
And gave themselves for us all.