by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza
Pitchers threw No-Nos:
Blanco, Cease, Snell, Cubs-combo.
Han Kang won Nobel.
Fire Cats
by James Finn Garner
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
No one told Houston the plot
AJ Hinch gave his old squad a swat
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Now Cleveland’s about to get taught
The summer games might come to naught
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Whatever team comes down the slot
They still lose when they’ve shot their shot
Somebody let the Tigers get hot
Are these rookies aware what they’ve got?
Any need for vets they forgot
Playing with Red Bull, courage and snot
Youthful spirit means quite a lot
Call them “Tigertown Tots”
And they’ll tie your tongue in a knot
What hath the Ilitches wrought?
Somebody let the Tigers get hot.
Baseball Parity, Chicago Parody
by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza
Had the Dodgers
Lost just one more game,
This sub-600 season woulda been lame.
The winning percentage
Of most every other team,
Was surely a parity-lover’s dream.
Leaving aside the Angels, Marlins, Rockies,
And the historically bad White Sox,
All the other ballclubs had their shots.
Within sniffing distance of the wild card,
A couple of wins here and there
Woulda given your team a playoff share.
If the Mets and Tigers coulda
Advanced to the second round,
My Cubbies, too, shoulda stuck around.
Yeah, there may be MLB pair-a-tee,
But as Steve Goodman’s Dying Cubs Fans know
They still play the blues in Chi-ca-go.
Dr. Oza’s novel Double Play on the Red Line sits at the intersection of Ernie Banks’ Cubs, the Negro Leagues, riding the El, wrongful convictions, immigration and friendship. It will be published in October 2024 by Chicago’s Third World Press.
The Oakland Blues
by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza
You lose a game,
And it hurts
Like a paper cut.
You don’t make the playoffs,
And it hurts
Like a broken nose.
You lose the last game of the World Series,
And it hurts
Like a Type III fracture.
You lose one hundred and twenty games,
And it still don’t hurt
Like having your heart ripped out.
Becuz’ in your world,
The hurt will heal
As you wait until next year.
Like a rainbow thief, the A’s owner
Has forever stolen the Green & Gold
And left only the Blues.
He’s stealing away,
Up Highway 80 to sAcrAmento,
Chasing a pot o’ gold to lAs vegAs.
The letter “A” has been ripped out of
The O*kl*nd *lph*bet.
And now he*rt sounds like hurt.
A broken old man sits crying
In the desolate Coliseum
With a cancer of the heart.
Becuz’ in his world,
The hurt will metastasize
On every Opening Day.
Dr. Oza’s novel Double Play on the Red Line sits at the intersection of Ernie Banks’ Cubs, the Negro Leagues, riding the El, wrongful convictions, immigration and friendship. It will be published in October 2024 by Chicago’s Third World Press.
Last Call for the Coliseum
by James Finn Garner
As the sun sinks low over East Bay,
We savor the memories of when they’d play,
That team from Oakland in yellow and green
And some of the greatest we’ve ever seen.
Leading off, of course, the immortal Rickey,
Powerful, swift, determined, tricky,
Then lanky, mustachioed Rollie, and who
Can forget Catfish and Vida Blue?
Campy Campaneris and Sal Bando
Thrilled the nascent East Bay fandom
The Swingin’ A’s and Charley O
Kept things jumping, three rings in a row.
Dave Stewart, imposing on the mound,
And Reggie Jackson! Too big for this town
Dennis Eckersley, Jason Giambi,
Dwayne Murphy, Joe Rudi, Rick Monday
A franchise always hurting for cash
Still grew Bob Welch and the Brothers of Bash
And a World Series paused by an earthquake?
These are the things that diehards make.
Rowdy! Joyous! Full-bore! . . . Buzzed?
They didn’t always win, but then who does?
For a snapshot of what it means to be an Oakland A’s fan, check out this article from the SF Chronicle, which is also posting an oral history with players from different eras of the team.