Browse all poems and songs in the 'Boston Red Sox' Category


Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Sale, Baby, Sale”

by James Finn Garner

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

Don’t care that Fenway’s a hitters’ park
Dave Dombrowski’s set to make his mark
Lots of lefties pitching for this team
Lots of taters hit into the green

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

With Benintendi, Bogaerts, Mookie Betts,
Faithful bean-eaters might forget
That choke in Cleveland in the first round
They’ll still come out–big college town

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

 



Poetic Legacy

by the Village Elliott

For the 2016 World Champion Chicago Cubs

Yo, Chief, start Trib’s presses!
Our Extra expresses
Best headline since “Dewey Has Won!”
Lead with, “Cubs Now the Bride
After Hundred-Year Schneid:
Scapegoat Exorcised with Gonfalon.”

Yes, the Cubs exorcised
Longest World Series schneid
With a young team of great destiny,
But it’s happened before,
“Destined” youths win no more,
Team grows old, earns “Not Quite” legacy.

I read: “Said Connie Mack,
When Al Simmons came back
The year after won first bat title:
‘To be true champion
You must win second one,
Defending your title, that’s vital.’

“‘I believe that I shall,’
Replied Bucket-foot Al,
And, indeed, as bat champ, did repeat . . .”
So what Cubbies must do,
Is win Crown Number Two,
Snatching title from series defeat,

Would be “great champion”
If Cubs win second one
By repeating most poetically:
Since in Theo both trust,
Seems to me Cubbies must
Defeat Red Sox to seal Legacy.

 



Requiescat in Pace, Red Sox

by Stephen Jones

Wha’happened, Red Sox Nation?
Cleveland was more resilient,
That’s what — and even with
A banged-up rotation.

So, no late-inning magic —
No Big Papi and his swinging stick.
In fact, the Boston bats mostly were
A disappearing act.

Funny, how it goes —
how the regular season crescendo
Can go out the postseason window,
When one team’s hot
And the other is not.

 



Big Papi’s Final Thoughts

by James Finn Garner

Tell me, has it come to this–
To be outhit by Coco Crisp?
To win outright the AL East,
Then be swept out like autumn leaves?
To watch my teammates flailing madly
And our hurlers piching badly?
Then step out for a curtain call
And have all Fenway watch me bawl?

I know I’ve won three rings, but still–
I’m not quite set to give up the thrill.

 



Topographical Cap

by Michael X. Ferraro

The cap of Richard Porcello
Casts a dim light on the fellow.
It’s encrusted with gunk
And emits such a funk
Pine tar transforms into Jell-O.

 

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.