By Gary Gillette
Opening Day. Green.
April grass: green. Ballpark, green.
Fans’ hearts red—heads blue.
Posted 4/8/08
By Gary Gillette
Opening Day. Green.
April grass: green. Ballpark, green.
Fans’ hearts red—heads blue.
Posted 4/8/08
By Gary Gillette
Ex-inn/in Detroit.
Leyland…Bazardo…Godot…
Urinalysis.
Posted 4/1/08
BALTIMORE
Is it too late to call Cal?
Or even Bob Bonner?
With Hernandez or Fahey, the season’s a goner.
BOSTON
The pitching staff is shot to hell.
With Schilling, Beckett, and Colon unwell,
They’re Dice-rolling at the opening bell.
CHICAGO
Will the Sox get greedy
With Crede?
Watch your back, Ozzie—or, rather, watch Joe’s.
CLEVELAND
It’s time for the talent to show.
And with any luck (please, God)…
Maybe a new logo?
DETROIT
No injury worries—not even a tinge!
When any Tiger feels a twinge,
They’ll call on Brandon Inge.
KANSAS CITY
Tote that Bale, lift that Gload,
Another long year in KC?
Or a renaissance? These kids are beginning to be.
LOS ANGELES
K-Rod,
And Vlad the Impaler,
And a bunch of young pitchers hopping out of a trailer.
MINNESOTA
No cash for Johan or Torii,
But there’s money for Nathan—within reason—
Though he pitches just 70 innings a season.
NEW YORK STATE OF MIND
The Yankees won’t listen to reason!!
They’ll pull out their Wang
To open the season!!
OAKLAND
What’s that sound from the Street?
Is it Foulke music so sweet?
Oh, it’s Rich Harden’s shoulder, grinding like meat.
SEATTLE
Half the team has reached the big three-oh,
And aside from Ichiro,
There’s a lot of “don’t know.”
TAMPA BAY
They sent Longoria to Triple-A
To reduce his service time? Feh!
This franchise is still the pride of Mephistofele.
TEXAS
Trouble children, like Bradley and Hamilton,
And a pitching staff
Of no wheat and all chaff.
TORONTO
Toronto has Coats.
Maybe they’ll avoid
A cold April.
Posted 3/31/08
By Stuart Shea
Carsten C. Sabathia,
We haven’t seen the last of ya.
There’s still so much to see,
Since you weigh 253.
Posted 10/25/07
by James Finn Garner
500
Is such an exquisite digit–
The miles in a Daytona race,
Fortune‘s biggest firms anyplace,
And Fiat’s postwar car-midget.
500
The dingers hit by “Big Hurt” Frank,
Of the sweet stroke and bitter knees,
A-Rod, whipping boy for the Yankees,
And Thome, svelte as a Sherman tank.
500
Their several teams never captured it all.
The sluggers pushed on in good years and bad,
Taking what pleasure there was to be had
In campaigns of .500 ball.
500!
Carved into history like Cy Nostradamus.
As Father Time erodes, hobbles and tames,
That mark will always shine next to these names.
500 cheers for Thome, Rodriguez and Thomas!
Posted 10/16/07