by Monica Deree
With the Royals in need
the universe responded
thus the Rally Mantis was born.
A beautiful gift
for this suffering team
bringing eighteen wins in his wake.
But now he’s retired
the Royals’ season is over,
and the World Series will see new blood.
No matter what anyone says–
Denies ever sharing a tanning booth
With Dr. Ruth.
Is fond of the movies,
Especially those that feature
Sulks and pouts.
As the sole Angel, he doesn’t get very far
With his funny imitation of Yunel Escobar.
Has always been so pissed
At being last alphabetically
That he takes his revenge athletically.
By James Finn Garner
On this beautiful summer day in June
The Royals rise and the White Sox swoon
The Astros still dream of their trip to the moon
The Red Sox hope they aren’t peaking too soon
While the Yanks obsess over things picayune
The Rangers and Jays field their share of goons
Tampa ponders a move to Saskatoon. . .
And Epstein’s still the smartest guy in the room.
by Stephen Jones
Noah Syndergaard stormed ashore
Like a grim Viking ancestor.
He drew out a sword of destiny —
His unheard of slider of no pity —
And unleashed it on poor KC.
by R.J. Lesch
The books must balance, so accountants say.
For every credit on the books, we must
Record a debit. Bills come in; we pay
Them off and write it down. In baseball, just
The same is true. A hit is chalked up to
The hitter and the pitcher both. A game
Won by my team must be a loss for you.
If we give credit, so we must give blame.
For every Thomson, Branca there must be.
For Mazeroski, Terry. Wilson, Buck.
Gordon and Familia, recently.
Then Hosmer, Duda. Perez, Matz. Tough luck.
The calculus of baseball can be cold,
But books must balance, once the tale is told.