by Stephen Jones
The KC Royals got drubbed at home.
Seems the umpire wouldn’t give’em a bone.
Strikes became balls or, as they say,
A quarter of the plate was taken away.
Game 1 of the Series is now history,
But that’s what they’re arguing in KC.
by Jim U-Boat, the Poet Laureate of Calumet City
In honor of the 106th anniversary Tuesday of the last Cubs World Series victory.
Before you all blow
Your hard-worked-for dough
On dumb, next-year-we’ll-win theories,
I’ll remind you again
Of how long it’s been
Since the Cubs have won the World Series.
It’s 106 years!
And oceans of tears
Since Cub players were rightly called greats.
We’re now 10 decades hence,
From our country of 47 states.
There were no CDs,
TVs, or LPs;
Eight years before stainless steel;
Reagan hadn’t been born
Of Illinois corn;
A score before the New Deal.
When the Cubs last decided
Without being chided
To win (back then they were ready),
The White House’s star
Was not FDR –
It was his ol’ cousin Teddy.
Cub fans should wean
Themselves off a team
That’s “0-for” since 1908,
But these masochists
Will always exist
While others, in turn, celebrate.
by Stephen Jones
“It seems all the offense has gone away
From the games of this October play.”
Fans—you may voice dissatisfaction,
But your recall? Less than perfection.
You don’t go clamor to the MLB:
“Get rid of steroids—now—1, 2, 3,”
And then, irate, turn to complain
When you get a low-scoring game.
The long-ball, tape-measure circus is done –
And for the most part, its PEDs gone –
But maybe suffocating pitching’s the reason
For all the goose eggs this playoff season.
Whatever else, it’s worth repeating:
You can’t have it both ways this playoff season.
by Jim Siergey
The Series, according to Hoyle,
should not contain Giant or Royal.
No “Wild Card” should be
in this pageantry–
to baseball tradition I’m loyal!
Jim Siergey can often be found in the electronic pages of The Third City.
by Steven D. Johnson
Five hundred eleven – the wins of Cy
near three sixty-seven – the bat of Ty
But in baseball heaven, just blink an eye . . .
. and records will be broken.
Just look at Babe Ruth – seven hundred fourteen
. To tell you the truth, his home runs were seen
. to hold a record not passed – thirty-nine years, ‘til alas
Hank Aaron’s bat was woken.
Yet there is a record that will ever stand,
. but it’s not Ted Williams, and it’s not Stan the Man
. don’t look to Tris Speaker, don’t bank on Pete Rose
. for this baseball record every ballplayer knows
. belongs, yes it does, to another.
It’s not for stolen bases – though Oakland’s a believer
. nor is it held by aces – like Gibson, Ford or Seaver
No, the sole baseball mark that will hold in every park
. belongs to father, son, and brother.
The record that won’t break, held through highs and heartache,
is going seven-for-seven, every baseball season week
. since 1911 – now that is quite a feat!
It’s keeping baseball alive since 1925.
It’s zero games missed since 1886.
It’s giving ballplayers a reason
. to thrive in baseball season.
Yes, the only baseball record
. that will maintain its stand
. belongs to the beloved,
. committed baseball fans!