Browse all poems and songs in the 'New York Yankees' Category


Junk Baller

by the Village Elliott

For Eddie Lopat, who pitched from 1944-55 with the White Sox, Yankees and Orioles.

Eddie Lopat threw junk that looked fat.
Hitters couldn’t wait to take their at bat,
But the pitch Eddie threw
Hitters always swung through,
‘Cause their bat ain’t where the ball was at.

 



All Along the Pinstripe Dugout

by Stephen Jones

With apologies to Bob Dylan

“There must be some way out of here,”
Said Girardi to himself,
“The pitching’s all gone south –
I can’t get no relief.
Red Sox, they drink the wine,
While Bombers dig the earth.
And none of this is fine,
But my pitching . . . what’s it worth?”

 



Oakland Sweeps Yankees

by Stephen Jones

Don’t kill the pitchers
Pinstripe offense anemic
Yankees brushed aside

 



R.I.P. Walt Williams

by Jim Siergey

He was a six-foot man
In a five-six frame
His unusual physique
Was his nickname

He hustled and he hit
And he ran like heck
An eternal fan favorite
Was little “No Neck.”

 



The Decision

by Stephen Jones

He faced a lot of batters in a season,
But none of us knew his demon.

C.C. Sabathia made a decision —
Leave the mound for rehabilitation.

It takes a strong man to make this call —
To recognize that life’s more than baseball.

 

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.