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 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.
by D. Bruce Brown
A nation believes
That their guys can win it all
History says no
Fighting a drab park
Evan isn’t an All-Star?
Our starters will shine
Is Davis for real?
His weight room feats are unreal
The bullpen will tell
An EMT’s dream
But Girardi knows winning
How is Cano’s knee?
Can we go from first
To last in the same season?
The rest must collapse
Billy Beane is a genius
Damn! Who ARE these guys?
So very close twice
Making believers of fans
If only Nolan could pitch
Los Angeles (AoA)
Tons of star power
Swept at home by the Astros
What is going on?
They perform for loyal fans
Wait! Ichiro’s where?
Switching leagues might help
Two thousand and five was great
But so long ago
Pitching’s no problem
The best hitter in baseball
These cats have a bite!
Once given for dead
With lectures from Chris Perez
Francona’s now boss
AL’s small market
Yet they have players to watch
Brett’s in the dugout
Trying to build stars
Is hard when your DH is Plouffe
Mauer can still hit
South Siders are glum
Sale should have been MVP
Git up! Git up! Stretch!
D. Bruce Brown has posted daily trivia questions for Horsehide Trivia since 1997. He is also the president of the Bob Davids chapter of SABR.
by Stephen Jones
No easy way to describe -
The Yankees seem alive -
But Minnesota’s brood
Is a thorn in New York’s ashwood.
I am watching in proverbial
Disbelief – this game has all
The earmarks of Murphy’s Law
Of baseball in place: This may be
The Ugliest Game I’ve seen so far.
A team meltdown from mound to plate -
And the glove-load of on-field mistakes?
I am switching,
Before this gets embarrassing,
To something more fulfilling . . .
Like antiques or cooking.
by James Finn Garner
Has no need to feel dour.
He’ll get a trip to the Big Apple for frees
Without having to play the Yankees.
Is the lone Astro.
He brings Bigfoot to mind
As the sole representative of his kind.
Doesn’t climb the mound alone.
He relies on his teammates, and God,
And Big Pharma supporting his ancient bod.
Must be some kind of he-man.
He’ll play in New York instead of Puig.
Too bad that now, I don’t give a fuig.