Browse all poems and songs in the 'Fans' Category


On the Death of Baseball (1994/2014)

by Holly L. McEntyre

I spent my childhood
.        learning to tell
.        balls from strikes and
.        rejoicing over 6-4-3
double plays.

Memorizing the names and positions
.        of all “my” players,
.        watching my Montreal Expos “win some, lose some”
.        at Jarry Park,
copying their signatures from baseball cards
.        into my little red scrapbook.

Belting out two anthems
.        at “The Big ‘O’”
Proud of my country,
.        and of Canada,
and of the great North American game.

In the film version
.        of “Shoeless Joe”
James Earl Jones
.        tells us
that baseball is
.        the one constant,
baseball is America.

When baseball is ruined,
destroyed for the masses
.        by the few
.        wealthy enough
to own
.        those who
.        play for pay,
What does this say
.        about our constant,
What does this say
.        about our country?

It says
that even though a boy can
.        “have a catch” with his father,
although Mo’Ne Davis “throws
.        like a girl” at 70 MPH,
we have struck out,
because “Field of Dreams”
is just a movie, the “American Dream”
is just a myth, and
baseball
is just a game.

 



Instant Replay

by James Finn Garner

Eric Hosmer’s modified mullet
MadBum casually firing bullets

Superfans from South Korea
The panicked look on Kelvin Herrera

Phantom sighting of the Freak
Plugging Aoki’s defensive leak

Peavy shelled like the Hellespont
Escobar laying down a bunt???

Joe Buck opining from his tuchus
Of redoubtable Mike Moustakas

Gordon’s single to the wall
Cool-as-horchata Sandoval

What the hell is Ned Yost thinking?
I’ll have whatever Pence is drinking

Crawford gobbles up ground balls
Bochy weeps, and Affeldt bawls

Young Joe Panik, Dyson, Cain…
Can we please do it all again?

 



The Seventh Game

by the Village Elliott

Once again starting pitching had sucked;
Saved by double play Joe Panik plucked;
.     Bochy didn’t have a doubt
.     Mad Bum would get last out,
And Royals’ title the Giants abduct.

(Kansas City is Royally f**ked!)

 



It All Comes Down To

By Stuart Shea

A Baseball Fan’s Heaven–
World Series Game Seven.
So Let’s Turn it Up to Eleven!



There is No “I” in “Royals”

by James Finn Garner

Hey, orange Marlins yahoo,
What gives you the right to
Wear something else than powder blue
Sitting where the world sees you?

You need to blend in with the crowd,
Not sit in garments screaming loud.
So you have a stub — think you can
Crimp our genius marketing plan?

To your Fish you think you’re loyal?
Well, here everyone cheers the Royals.
Your defiance makes the brass see red!
This is America, pal, and don’t forget!

 

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