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


“The Philadelphia Fillies” by Del Reeves

 



Rockies 8, Yankees 4

by Stephen Jones

Could it get any worse,
This sow’s ear out of a silk purse?
0-9 with men on base?
Talk about a team disgrace.
The Yankee mantra seems to be
Feel free to squander opportunity.

 



All Hail Ichiro

by James Finn Garner

So many long years ago
Ichiro
Began spraying hits
And if it seems like it’s
Going to go on forever
(I mean, it never
Looks like he ages),
Remember the pages
Of record holders
Left to molder
When a young stud
Both lucky and good
Works to set a new mark
At the ball park.
In time a new hero
Will surpass Ichiro,
And the passage of time
Cruel and sublime
Will lose some of its sting
As we salute a new king.

 



Moon, Swoon, Baseball in June

By James Finn Garner

On this beautiful summer day in June
The Royals rise and the White Sox swoon
The Astros still dream of their trip to the moon
The Red Sox hope they aren’t peaking too soon
While the Yanks obsess over things picayune
The Rangers and Jays field their share of goons
Tampa ponders a move to Saskatoon. . .

And Epstein’s still the smartest guy in the room.

 



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.

 

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