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


The John Lennon Yankee Song

by Hart Seely

Imagine there’s no Beltran.
It’s easy if you try.
No more infield pop-ups.
And no more rallies die.
Imagine all the outfield,
Under thirty-five…

Imagine there’s no long-terms.
It isn’t hard to do.
Nobody out on rehab,
And no Stephen Drew, too.
Imagine Yankee “prospects,”
Under thirty-five…

You-oo-o-o-o…
You may say I’m a Met fan,
Bartolo Colon, Granderson,
We know one day they’ll rejoin us,
But only after they’re completely done…

Imagine no Sabathia.
I wonder if you can.
No waiting for his comeback,
And no complaints among the fans.
Imagine all the people,
Cheering his career…

You-oo-o-o-o…
You may say I’m a moron,
But we only want to win…
We hope some young players join us,
And someday we’ll raise a flag again.

 



Yankees 11, Tampa 5

by Stephen Jones

CC ends his drought
A-Rod’s homer–number eight
Yankee team–gelling

 



If Tex is Really Back

by Hart Seely

If only we can beat the Mets,
If Boston loses Mookie Betts,
If A-Rod somehow hits a bunch,
And Carlos Beltran earns his lunch…
Our team could finish in the black,
Not wither at the warning track.
We’d actually have a bold attack…
If Tex is really back.

If C.C. salves the wounds of time,
If Didi turns out worth a dime,
If Headley brings a few clutch blasts,
And Masahiro’s elbow lasts…
Then we can add another plaque,
And dance like Strahan with a sack,
No cleanup slugger will we lack…
If Tex is really back.

Ah, but dreams! they’re known to drift,
Like fielders in an over-shift,
And spring’s a time to see rebirth,
But fall is when teams rule the earth.
Let’s savor every vict’ry snack,
And cheer his every home run whack,
We’ll all be high, like smoking crack…
If Tex is really back.

 

Hart Seely is the author of The Juju Rules and helms the indispensable Yankee blog, It is High, It is Far, It is  . . . Caught.



Sgt. Pepper’s 2015 Forecast: “When I’m .204″

by James Finn Garner

For the Yankees:

When I get older, losing my speed,
Not so long from now,
Will you still be batting me at DH,
Late-game left field, riding the bench?
When the Yanks are down 17 to 3,
Count on me to score.
Will you still play me,
Will you still pay me,
When I’m .204?

Every contract season there’s a vet’ran on the trading block that could fill a need
. . . CC, Gardner, A-Rod, Beltran . . .
Then in March he wrecks his knees,
Hank, is this your plan?

Farm system looks like a north Texas ranch
In 1933.
By August we’ll be chasing after Tampa Bay
All our prospects traded away.
Reflexes wane and muscles are sore
“On deck: Dumbledore!”
Will you still play me,
Will you still pay me,
When I’m .204?

 



American League East 2015 Spring Training Haiku

By Stuart Shea

Orioles
Hitless in 20…
Not a great way to come back
Is it, Matt Wieters?

Red Sox
New acquisition
For Boston’s Zoo—a panda.
He won’t go hungry.

Yankees
First spring in many
With a wide-open spot where
A legend once trod.

Rays
All the big names gone
And one eye is looking north
Thinking of Quebec.

Blue Jays
It’s hard to know, man…
Can they win without Stroman?
Does Haiku need rhyme?

 

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Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.