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On the Retirement of Nancy Faust

by James Finn Garner

Oh Nancy, for over 40 summers
You’ve brought music and joy to Chisox fans,
Fingers tripping lightly o’er the keyboard,
Perched in the midst of the Comiskey stands.

So many ballparks used canned music now,
With no more soul than an iPod Shuffle.
Dear Nancy, you’re the sweetheart of the park–
Forgive us if we fight back a sniffle.

Thank you for the Mexican Hat Dance,
A Randy Newman song, a Broadway tune.
Thanks for keeping us all singing along
When the team was 20 games out in June.

Like with hot dogs, beer vendors and popcorn,
Games aren’t complete without your sweet refrains.
This isn’t “Na-Na, Hey-Hey, Goodbye”, it’s
“Auf Wiedersehn”, Nancy, and “Danke Schoen”.

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“Enough!” He Said and Left in a…Huff

By Stuart Shea and James Finn Garner

Aubrey Huff,
No powder puff
Flat on his duff.

He has the stuff,
This Aubrey Huff.

“When times are tough,”
Says Aubrey Huff,
“I don’t get gruff.
I huff and puff.

“I’m pretty tough.
I’m Aubrey Huff!”

Posted 9/27/10

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Nighty-Night, White Sox

by James Finn Garner

Now we lay us down to sleep.
Who really thought that we could sweep?

We thought we had a chance at Central,
If Ozzie kept from going mental.

God, forgive us of our sins
And tell us why you made the Twins.

Tell us why we let go Thome,
Then brought in that dreadlocked phony.

Thank you for our newfound heroes,
For Edwin Jackson, Alex Rios,

Thank you for our older guard,
Thanks for Paulie going yard.

Please keep the squad from getting creaky.
Make sure A.J. keeps playing sneaky.

Now we’ll watch the Hawks and Bears,
Trying to ignore our fears

Of Kenny really signing Manny
And Ozzie going to Miami.

 

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The Damnation of Fausto

by James Finn Garner

Have the Twins sold their soul to the devil?
Have they penned a new contract in blood?
Has their lust for a title bereft them
Of a compass to tell bad from good?

What else can explain their performance?
Half the team’s on the disabled list,
while rooks amble up from the minors
Like Joe Jackson in a cornfield mist.

Thome’s swing has shrugged off a decade,
And Pavano now hurls like an ace.
Something’s hinky, you know, with these Twinkies.
Have the precepts of God been replaced?

Yet one sable evening in Cleveland
Came the devil’s own agent, Fausto.
For their pride he pulled ’em back to the pit.
Ol’ Nick will be paid what he’s owed.

Posted 9/14/10