by James Finn Garner
It’s never pretty
This time of year
In Kansas City
Whose early promise
Fades without pity
And whose only solace,
Is Brett once played here.
by Michael X. Ferraro
Getting lost in conversation
Shouldn’t make you feel your worst,
Unless you are Ian Kinsler,
and it got you picked off first.
While idly chatting with Royals first baseman Eric Hosmer on Saturday, the basepath-impaired Tigers second baseman was easily picked off by a snap throw from pitcher Danny Duffy.
by Stuart Shea
Can the Sox play tough?
White indicates purity…
Are dirty suits allowed?
If only Swisher
Struck out more often…but then,
Truth ain’t poetry.
The old roar is gone…
No more sneaking cigarettes.
It’s a young man’s turn.
It is difficult
To keep from strangling youth with
Mauer ain’t sour,
He’s heretofore banished from
Those bad Twins hurlers.
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.
By Stu Shea
The worst thing I can think of
(Besides painful boils)
Is Rex Hudler and Steve Physioc
Announcing the Royals.