Browse all poems and songs in the 'Ballparks' Category

Bleachers Open for Business

by James Finn Garner

Chicago is known for its class
So give that girl in the bleachers a pass
You might’ve thought the cap rubbed her ass
But she’s the new Cubs mascot “Bum Lass”.


Dopes Spring Eternal

by Hilary Barta

Oh, the friendly confinement is great
Hot dog vendors, the vines — both first rate
But the sport has a history,
And support is a mystery
When the end of the line is, “Just wait.”


In the Shade of Freddie Gray

by Joe Pacheco

In the shade of Freddie Gray
The empty stands sit still.
No fans to shout hooray.

No anthem sung today,
No luxury box will fill
In the shade of Freddie Gray.

On field, two teams display
Their valor, speed and skill –
But no fans shout hooray.

Sirens wail just miles away,
Dark on the pitcher’s hill
Lies the shade of Freddie Gray.

A miracle catch or play
Won’t give late inning thrill.
No fans to shout hooray.

Respect or shame? We cannot say
But we’ll remember well –
No fans to shout hooray
In the shade of Freddie Gray.


“Sanibel Joe” Pacheco is a retired New York City superintendent living on Sanibel Island, Fla. His poetry has been featured several times on National Public Radio’s Morning Edition, Latino USA and WGCU. He has performed his poetry with David Amram’s jazz quartet at the Bowery Poets Café and Cornelia Street Café in New York City.


by Miles Hart

The luscious green grass,
The hard brown dirt,
The paper white bases,
All create a baseball field.
The player up to bat so calm and cool under pressure
The game tied at 3 with two outs
and a runner on 3rd,
The game on the line.
The first pitch
comes right down the center of the plate,
Swing and a miss,
strike one.
Pitch number two
a curve ball dropping two and half feet,
Strike two!
Pitch number three
a change up on the outside corner of the plate.
The ball is hit.
the ball travels through the air
as the crowd standstill,
You could hear a pin drop.
Going, Going, Gone!
They win the game.
The crowd storms the field in joy
of the win as they celebrate.


Miles Hart is a seventh-grader at Hawthorne Scholastic Academy in Chicago.

Unwanted History (Orioles/White Sox, April 29, 2015)

by Stephen Jones

In Baltimore today,
Because of instability,
Baseball’s being played
Behind close-door security.
With no fans’ cheers or jeers,
With no waves or foam fingers . . .
It’s a sad baseball first.

In 1857, 16 teams
Were organized in New York.
And nationwide, by ’65,
It was well over a hundred.
History says, even in war
No game’s been played
Without some fan present.

But today Camden Yards is empty–
It’s empty of its soul.
Ticket holders have been told
To stay away
Because of violence in the streets–
And the only way to see the game
Is via cable at home.

I’d rather throw a baseball . . .
Not a rock.


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