Feeling Good: Birds Flying Low
by David Bellel
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Birds flying low, you know how I feel,
Three-hit Cano, you know how I feel,
Ten wins in a row, you know how I feel,
It’s another o-misplay
It’s a crucial CC K
It’s a Rivera save
For Yanks,
And I’m feeling good.
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Check out David’s Yankee blog, Pseudo-Intellectualism.
Posted 6/30/10
Birdland
by David Bellel
Inspired by the Orioles’ recent home sweep of the Red Sox, the first in nearly 36 years, is a new version of “Birdland”:
In the middle of that hub
I remember one sad club
Where Bosox went to beat
Down near Sultan’s home street
Everybody flipped the bird
To a team nicknamed the Birds
Where Beantown pitchers twirled
Like the best in all the world
The records achieved there
Were beyond compare
Birdland, I’m singing
Birdland
Birdland, Old losin’ Birdland
Hey man, the O’s would really turn you on.
Really? but things have just turned around.
Down them stairs, old winners beware
Where? Down in Birdland
Booming swings, now Birds are kings
There, down in Birdland
Tejada would cook, Papi would look
Where? Down in Birdland
Ohnan came through, Nick came too.
There, down in Birdland
Papelbon got screwed, J.D. too
Where? Down in Birdland
Orioles played hard ball
Now Tremblay won’t fall
There, down in Birdland, Yeah!
David posts often at his blog, Pseudo-Intellectualism. Check it out.
Posted 5/13/2010
American League East 2010 Haiku Forecasts
By Stuart Shea
ORIOLES
Thousands of tweeters
Will talk of Matt Wieters while
Driving their beaters.
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RED SOX
The spring mist rises
From the humid Fens again…
Wait, that’s fan B.O.
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YANKEES
Autumn nears for A-
Rod, Mo, Jeter, Posada,
And, yes, Randy Winn.
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RAYS
A young rotation,
Some MVP candidates,
A tough division.
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BLUE JAYS
The center fielder
Needs to break his fall this spring–
Then all will be Wells.
Posted 4/6/2010
An Ode To Matt Wieters
by Ember Nickel
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Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
Beloved of pundits and bloggers and Tweeters.
We all knew for ages that he’d be the best
And now to his greatness I too can attest.
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
Those who would surpass him are certainly cheaters.
I saw him break up a no-hitter! (Although
It was the second inning…but even so.)
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
His home runs can travel for hundreds of meters.
But to his opponents he’s kind and shows grace
(I saw him hit a fielder’s choice to first base.)
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
He’ll crush all your changeups, he’ll hit your high heaters.
But he’s so good that he doesn’t need to swing.
(I saw him walk.) Yes, he can do everything.
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
No other people can claim to be world-beaters.
Who else could ground out to shortstop with his skill?
(I saw him do that too.) No one can, or will.
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
When the game is tied up, and the outcome teeters
In the Orioles’ final at-bat, Wieters’ clout
Came up to the plate…and I saw him strike out.
Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters! Matt Wieters!
He’ll make us forget old Pujolses and Jeters
And Mauers and Molinas and–never mind
That now. Did you hear Stephen Strasburg got signed?
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Posted 9/29/2009
Ode to an Oriole’s Lament
Copyright by Mike Nortrup
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I journeyed out to Camden Yards
To watch the Birds prevail,
Hoping against fervent hope
I would not see them fail
Even though so many times
The O’s would break my heart,
Getting hopes up for awhile
And then they’d fall apart.
Our starter lasted till the fourth
But rarely found the plate,
And when he got one in the zone
It came in flat or straight.
Predictably they crushed the ball.
Jones bid three shots adieu.
Markakis watched one sail untouched
Into Boog’s Barbecue.
But no way did they toss the towel–
They clawed and made it back.
That sent their grey-clad visitors
Into panic attack.
Then Huff got nailed at second base.
Oh, tell me why he tried!
And Mora rounded third too far.
He stumbled and got fried.
Those forays cost the Birds two runs,
And when those plays were done,
I sat there mired in prescient rage,
Just knew they’d lose by one.
Then for awhile they pulled ahead
And had advantage late.
Their faithful went delirious.
It seemed they’d changed their fate
And then the bullpen came to save
With warm-up pitches thrown,
But all who sat there now lament
Because the lead was blown.
But hey! The Birds weren’t through quite yet.
The ninth was still to play.
They still had one more chance to show
They would not go away.
They got ‘em loaded with none out–
It wouldn’t have taken much–
But then three guys each went to bat
And faded in the clutch.
I rode on the Hunt Valley train
And pondered why I came.
I cursed the naive childlike zeal
That brought me to that game.
And then I swore that this was it.
That game had been my last!
Of course I’d said that many times,
In decades now long past.
But later on, it came to me:
The Orioles are my curse.
Hooked on my beloved Birds,
For better or for worse.
Published 8/25/09
