Vaya Con Dios, Bazardo
by James Finn Garner
Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Batters with hits your field did bombard-o,
Yorman, my man, hits the boulevard-o,
Cut by the Phils with flip disregard-o.
Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Though scratched from the Tigers’ and Phillies’ scorecard-o,
I hope you retain your own self-regard-o
And don’t mope and think you’re somehow ill-starred-o,
Or drown your sorrows in amontillado,
Or vanish from sight, incommunicado.
Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
While no setback leaves a person unscarred-o,
Don’t think yourself with failure much tarred-o,
Or believe that old “washed up” canard-o,
Because at least to the baseball ‘ficionado,
You gave us the chance to holler
“BAZARDO!”
For an earlier poem about Yorman Bazardo, click here.
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Posted 4/30/09
Which is Worse: Haiku or Pun?
by Larry Epke
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White Sox Spring Poser:
Will acquiring Wilson bring about
The Betemit of the team?
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Posted 4/16/09
The Wings of the Bird
by James Finn Garner
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Every kid thinks that he
Could mow down the heart of the Yankees order
If given the chance,
And someday everybody gets that chance,
And it’s good luck to talk to the ball,
And cheers are love that never dies,
And the world would love you if you showed them who you really are,
And magic can happen at any time.
That kid never dies.
That kid was the Bird.
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In memory of Mark Fidrych (1954-2009)
Posted 4/15/09
God Talks to Detroit
by James Finn Garner
For all the times you’ve prayed to me,
Beseeching for a victory–
“Let him strike out,” “We need this hit” –
And clogged my in-box with this stuff,
You choose to hold Opening Day—
Praise be to me—on Good Friday?
People, watch you don’t make me mad,
Or the Tiges will get what the Lions had.
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Posted 4/9/09.