Roy White, you did all right.
Jim Ray Hart, you played your part.
Willie Mays, those were the days!
Matty Alou, is it really true?

Duke Sims, you climbed on limbs.
Sparky Lyle, you made us smile.
Horace Clarke, you jumped the shark.
Matty Alou, we must bid adieu?

Harvey Kuenn, you made the scene.
Juan Marichal, you gave ‘em hell.
Steve Blass, let’s raise a glass!
Matty Alou, we’ll remember you.

Hart Seely’s new book, The Juju Rules: Or How to Win Ballgames From Your Couch, will be published by Houghton Mifflin in time for Opening Day 2012.  You can pre-order it from Amazon at this link.

There once was a Prince from Milwankee
Whose wife gave him no hanky panky
.     I’ll be ready, she said,
.     To take you to bed
When you swing your big bat as a Yankee

Jonathan Eig is the author of Luckiest Man: The Life and Death of Lou Gehrig, Opening Day: The Story of Jackie Robinson’s First Season,  and Get Capone, all now out in paperback.

Was it the last dance?
The last dance for John and Suzy’s broadcast love
No, no, their last chance?
To get us to a big dance Thurs night
We need them beside us
Beside us, to guide us
Their boldness, that unfolds us
‘Cause when they’re sad
We’re so, so sad

So let’s not dance the last dance
No, no last dance
No, no last dance Thurs night

Was it the last dance?
The last dance for John and Suzy’s broadcast love
No, no their last chance?
To get us to the big dance Thurs night
We need them beside us
Beside us, to guide us
Their boldness, that unfolds us
‘Cause when they’re glad
We’re so, so glad

So let’s not dance the last dance
No, no last dance
No, no last dance thurs night

You can find more of David’s work throughout the Yankee blog, It Is High, It Is Far, It Is…..caught.

The Tigers broke out of the zoo
And pummeled the team “You know who”
.    With our hitters on tap
.    And our pitchers with zap
They out-Yankee-ed the Yankees, Yahoo!

A contributor from Bardball’s rookie year, Millie Bovich has been a devoted fan of the Detroit Tigers for  eight decades.

All the network media dorks
Sing the praises of New York

They hate visiting places strange
Like Motown and the Texas Range

They’d rather crawl through Gotham sewers
Than watch the Snakes or Rays or Brewers.

They’re happy as a dog with bone
To stay in th’ Eastern Time Zone.

But Yankees pitching ain’t worth a lick.
The Phillies are my pick, in six.

The Cardinals are blanking the Astros again,
And they’ll make the playoffs if the Braves can’t win.
I wish I was there for this wild-card craze,
But I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

Hey! Tampa came back from a 7-0 hole,
Dan Johnson just tied it–right off the foul pole!
I’d love to be seeing the Yankees and Rays,
But I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

Did Baltimore really just walk off the Sox?
And Papelbon pull one more of his rocks?
So Tampa and St. Lou are in. I’m amazed
That I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

It’s cold in this pressbox at Safeco Field,
And watching a meaningless game is the yield.
The action is elsewhere, and it’s one of those days.
I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

All about his team
The Sandman keeps stats second
He pitches to win

Fans may make raucous noise
But on the mound he’s quiet grace
Humble with history

Genuine in his humility
His smile tells it all as he tips his hat
Sharing the moment with thousands

Mariano Rivera

What I remember is large
some of it confused
the sadness the heroes
some still unnamed

but I zero in on baseball
not to forget but because
like a constant outside history
baseball resonates for me

the heroics of play on a field
the belief that a game is sometimes
better than grief
a comfort & something to point to

An Oklahoma flash
Out of  “shucks” and a beer can
He swung for pleasure

One moment The Yankees set a record
three grand slams in one game

The next they fumble like dead wood
decidedly not the same

In golf drive for show
. . . but putt for dough

In baseball the axiom is the same
more often pitching wins the game

As playoffs loom strong arm Yankee batting
alone will not guaranty Yankee winning