The Legend of the Racing Pierogi
by James Finn Garner
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An opinionated pierogi
(Not bratwurst, donut or hoagie)
Got canned by the Bucs,
Who then looked liked schmucks.
He’s back racing — that doughy rogue, he!
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For background on this newsworthy event, click here.
Posted 7/7/2010
Free Bat Day, Tiger Stadium, 1971
by James Finn Garner
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Rallies were exciting,
Cheers a clanging roar
When each kid 14 and under
Got a bat at the stadium door.
They pounded on the railings,
The seats, pillars and floor,
Then they pounded on each other–
Bats ain’t given out no more.
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Posted 6/22/10
Philly Ball Park Guard and Taser
By Hart Seely
Hot beneath the raging sun,
Running in his cheap suit blazer,
Trigger-happy with his gun,
Philly ballpark guard – with taser.
Rumbling like a rented van,
Aiming carefully his laser,
Firing on some hapless fan,
Philly ballpark guard – with taser.
Creepo at the junior prom,
Sicko wielding rusted razor,
Castro with a nuclear bomb,
Philly ballpark guard – with taser.
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Posted 5/11/10
On the Minnesota Twins’ First Rainout at Target Field
By Stuart Shea
They live and die by the weather in this town.
It’s headline stuff when the snow starts coming down.
But still I didn’t expect the thing I viewed:
That a rainout made the top of the evening news.
Posted 5/9/10
Pastime Symphony in C Major: Game Day at Wrigley Field
by Todd Herges
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Dedicated to Donald Hall, with reaffirmation that he is a true baseball man not of the Bush League variety.
1.
It starts outside, from the Street Section,
with a dolce voce buzz.
Percussion of feet on sidewalk keeps the beat,
punctuated by occasional horns.
2.
Now bring in the Siren, a few blocks distant,
for just a moment, now off,
replaced by the Timpani rumble
of an elevated Red Line train.
3.
Drumming continues with volume increasing
as more musicians walk on stage
to join their fanatical peers.
This is going to be a concert to remember!
4.
A frantic girl from the String Section is running late,
an alto sax guy staggers a bit –
from his pep band’s pre-concert set
at the Cubby Bear Lounge, across the street.
5.
All line up in queues as Maestro gives cue
to the Electronic Beep section – demure as flutes, no: more
assertive than flutes, followed by turnstile ka-thunks.
The days of sneaking in on yesterday’s ticket are gone.
A barely contained thunder grows as voices are funneled
up ramps and through tunnels
and now they break through
to an Elysian view
of greenest grass and ivy,
of rich brown dirt dotted with sparkling white bases,
of blue summer sky festooned with crepe paper contrails,
of Players poised and vital in clean pinstripes.
6.
A pause, as the Orchestra gathers in full and reflects.
This is what they have waited for,
this is why they’ve spent so long working, saving,
studying the sports page sheet music, traveling, to get HERE.
7.
And now, Philharmonic finely tuned, the real concert begins.
Sound the organ anthem!
Stand and stretch and mouth the words.
Flutter the flags with a breathy breeze.
Play ball.
8.
Hot Dogs! Peanuts! Cracker Jack! Cold Beer HERE!
The pop of a pitch in the mitt;
the crack of a bat amidst sudden brief silence;
the appreciative roar of the crowd.
9.
Beauty and truth
and symphonic perfection
on a June afternoon
in Chicago.
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Posted 5/7/2010
