NL West 2011 Haiku Predictions
By Stuart Shea
ARIZONA DIAMONDBACKS
With Mark Reynolds gone,
It won’t be quite as windy
this year at Chase Field
COLORADO ROCKIES
Clutch Car-Go signed,
Willy Taveras signed too–
One step up, one back.
LOS ANGELES DODGERS
An oblique signing,
Middling veteran Jon Garland–
Now an oblique strain.
SAN DIEGO PADRES
It is much tougher
To sneak up on somebody
When they know you’re there.
SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS
As full as lush peonies,
Hosting every bee and fly–
Brian Wilson’s beard.
The Groundskeeper
by Susanna Rich
knows dirt makes the game—
clay makes firms footing;
sand perfects bounce.
The ballpark may crumble,
yet, the last morning of the last game,
the groundskeeper tends the grass,
edges lip build-up, and leaves.
He is the here that isn’t here,
maker of what must grow or not
around our mound of dust.
His field is our mother—each
winding up is promise—and hope.
Susanna wrote and narrated this poem for “Cobb Field: A Day at the Ballpark,” Craig Lindvahl’s documentary, for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film can frequently be seen on the MLB Network. Susanna has been published numerous times in Spitball and read frequently at the Yoga Berra Museum at Montclair State University in New Jersey.
Holy Cow!
by Susanna Rich
Once you’ve been saved
by the Church of
St. Baseball—the
game is All: the
Hot Dog! grill’s the
altar; bases
are stations of
the moss; the pope’s
on second; cheers
are chants; every
hit aches for the
sky; every word
is—Say Hey!—a
prayer for home.
Susanna wrote and narrated this poem for “Cobb Field: A Day at the Ballpark,” Craig Lindvahl’s documentary, for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film can frequently be seen on the MLB Network. Susanna has been published numerous times in Spitball and read frequently at the Yoga Berra Museum at Montclair State University in New Jersey.
A Clinchmas Story
by Zach Gifford
Twas the night that we clinched, and all through the house
not a creature was stirring (’cept Hunter Pence, that louse).
All the kids and the grownups at GABP
were waiting to see what the inning would be.
When up to the plate strode the mighty Jay Bruce.
And right in that moment, my mind saw the news.
The ’Stros brought a lefty, but Jay Bruce just smirked,
Stepped in to the box, and he went straight to work.
He swung the bat hard, so fast and so quick
That I knew in a moment in the stands it would stick.
He raised both his arms and he ran with a smile,
And Joy rose in Cincy that had been gone for a while.
Marty was happy, and so was son Thom.
Even Jim Day and Pic were enjoying that bomb!
The fireworks, how bright! The crowd, O how merry!
For such a great season, an appropriate cherry.
So thanks Aaron and Bronson, Brandon and Scott.
Thanks Orlando and Joey, the whole stinking lot!
And I heard them exclaim as they rode out of sight:
“Merry Clinchmas to all, and to all a Reds’ night!”
On the Retirement of Nancy Faust
by James Finn Garner
Oh Nancy, for over 40 summers
You’ve brought music and joy to Chisox fans,
Fingers tripping lightly o’er the keyboard,
Perched in the midst of the Comiskey stands.
So many ballparks used canned music now,
With no more soul than an iPod Shuffle.
Dear Nancy, you’re the sweetheart of the park–
Forgive us if we fight back a sniffle.
Thank you for the Mexican Hat Dance,
A Randy Newman song, a Broadway tune.
Thanks for keeping us all singing along
When the team was 20 games out in June.
Like with hot dogs, beer vendors and popcorn,
Games aren’t complete without your sweet refrains.
This isn’t “Na-Na, Hey-Hey, Goodbye”, it’s
“Auf Wiedersehn”, Nancy, and “Danke Schoen”.
