by Millie Bovich
Max Scherzer with Tigers behind ‘im
Throws pitches where hitters can’t find ’em
Twenty-one wins to post
Making most batters toast
We’re delighted that management signed ‘im!
Ode to a Playoff Berth
by Susan Petrone
I’ve never been much for numbers, I’ve always preferred words.
Fractions, sets, and integers lose out to nouns and verbs.
But this time of year I find myself in a mathematical dance
Trying hard to calculate the Indians’ playoff chance.
If KC can beat Detroit, the Tigers drop a game
But that won’t help us out at all ‘cuz then the Royals gain.
If the Twins can beat the A’s (and there’s frost in hell),
We’ll move up in the Wild Card and that would be just swell.
Percentage-wise, our playoff chance is not quite one in five
(Okay, nineteen point three percent in sabermetic jive).
That’s down from Wednesday but up from last week so it’s not a tragedy.
Overall our chances show a slight upward traject’ry.
All this talk about the odds and match-ups and the rest
Doesn’t address the simplest solution that’s the best:
Just have the Tribe win every game in a run-inducing flurry,
I’ll buy my playoff tix and leave the other teams to worry.
Susan Petrone regularly posts on the Indians at It’s Pronounced Lajaway.
The Agony of the Agate
by Michael X. Ferraro
Baseball in August creates many jobs
for travel agents and typesetting slobs.
Rehab assignments, Triple A spot starts,
Pennant aspirants shopping for spare parts.
Roster gods move in mysterious ways–
David DeJesus, three teams in five days?
Colin Cowgill’s grin, Billy Buckner’s frown.
Holy Toledo, Phil Coke’s been sent down!
Some guys can’t clear waivers; others released,
Plus one salary dump in the NL East.
(The Mets helped Pittsburgh in a deal most absurd—
Just tossed them a Buck and flipped them a Byrd.)
Eduardo Sanchez, gone from the big club.
But Ma Arrieta, Jake’s now a Cub!
Brad Boxberger sighs, packs for the bushes.
John Axford heads where the playoff push is.
Contenders reload, pretenders cut bait.
Hey Tuffy Goseswisch, Reno’s your fate.
Jose Constanza the Braves did recall,
with hopes that he’ll help them deep into Fall.
Philly’s less Savery—no Joe in the bigs;
Report sir, at once, to the Iron Pigs.
Ross Wolf’s been optioned to Round Rock Express,
while the Dodgers scooped up Edinson Volquez.
One-line transactions, a queer kind of fame.
Vic Black, you’ve become “Player To Be Named.”
Xavier Avery’s now a Rainier,
maybe Seattle, he’ll see you next year?
Michael X. Ferraro is a writer/producer/lyricist who scans the fine print daily to make sure he hasn’t been outrighted to Lehigh Valley.
From Verse to Worse
by Susan Petrone
Friday’s game against the Twins was one I really hoped we’d win
I figured it might be a fight. The Twins aren’t great, but they don’t bite.
Of course the question from word go was which Ubaldo J. would show.
The guy with the electric slider, or the one who makes you drink hard cider?
Top of one, bases full, no outs; it looked like it would be a rout.
Struck out the side, never fear–the Good Ubaldo J. was here!
Ten big strikeouts, holy crap! Too bad the offense took a nap.
The score read four walks, six hits, and one stinking run to show for it.
Final score was five to one. This is not what you’d call fun.
At losing we are quite adroit, unlike those guys up in Detroit.
Tigers won, so did the Rays. I hope the Orioles beat the A’s.
If it isn’t too pretentious, check the odds at Baseball Prospectus.
We may yet play into October, (yes, THIS October and yes, I’m sober).
Thus I’ll wait to drown my sorrows. Let’s see if they win tomorrow.
Susan Petrone blogs about the Tribe at the site, It’s Pronounced Lajaway.
Ode to a Bad Bengal Batsman
by Millie Bovich
At bat there is none to compara
To our Tiger named Miggie Cabrera
.    His homers go far
.   One clipped a low star
And one bounced the sands of Sahara!