On the 16th anniversary of Jack McDowell letting the bird fly at the fans at Yankee Stadium. Thanks to the grunts at It Is High, It Is Far, It Is….Caught for the tip.
The House That Ruth Ate
by Hilary Barta
To the bleachers a finger was pointed
With a homer the Babe was anointed
. The fat patron saint
. of a lack of restraint
His appetite came double-jointed.
.
Truth To Tell?
by Stephen Jones
Time to make amends
(I wish would’ve been said)
By Roger Clemens
(But I cannot judge)
There’s tangled arrogance
Supposed abuse & media rush
Posturing on the mound a stance
In court too to hush
By filed papers
By disclaimers
That a person is naive
Yet aware & conflictive
I thought this bare-knuckle
Bare-faced debacle
Would’ve been erased
By an all-forgiving fan base
But this coming legal sieve
Only wishes/draws attention
To media-flushed speculation
A barrel of brine to leave
Derek Jeter: The Closing Poem
by Hart Seely
Gehrig wept and Mantle drank,
When their careers began to tank,
Andy got out just in time.
Not one outing past his prime.
Derek Jeter, love the guy.
Day he leaves, you bet I’ll cry.
But he came up just yesterday,
And hit another double-play.
Mussina won that final game,
We’ll always think of him the same.
Ted Williams, in his last at bat,
Hit one out, and that was that.
Derek Jeter, one great man,
Say he can’t, he’ll show he can.
But I can’t help but the hate the way
He hits into that double-play.
When “Farewell” came time to wave,
Babe Ruth toiled as a Boston Brave.
In those final days of life,
Reagan barely knew his wife.
The ravages of time, so cruel,
The smartest man becomes the fool;
In the end, great pitchers fall,
(Unless they throw a knuckleball.)
Derek Jeter, time has passed.
You gave us everything we asked.
We’ll buy your fragrance, wear your smell,
We’ll drive whatever car you sell.
We wish you one long happy ride,
And Minka Kelly at your side.
But, sir, I really have to say,
I can’t take one more double-play.
Hart Seely is the driving force behind the Yank blog, It is High, It is Far, It is….caught.
Cubs/Yankees Kismet
by Stephen Jones
In 1932
When “The Babe” pointed to a spot
He called “the famous shot”
Or was he saying
“Back at you” pointing
To the pitcher & field
I’m better than you bat & stride”