Browse all poems and songs in the 'Fans' Category


– finis –

by Millie Bovich

The Astros and the Dodgers were the Hatfields and McCoys,
And they battled on for seven games, those wild and scrappy boys.

And as the dust is settling with the Astros waiting rings,
The crowd erupts with cheering and the “you know” lady sings.

Now the well-worn mitts are on the shelf, the champagne warm and flat,
And “Astros Champs” emblazoned is on every this and that.

The bats are finally all in racks, the balls are all in bags,
The uniforms are cleaned and pressed, their player names on tags.

The scoreboard shows no numbers, the stats are all in books,
The vendors too have closed up shop, their aprons hang from hooks.

The managers are calm once more, the cleaned-up shoes in rows.
The game’s America’s pastime, that fact no one can oppose.

The towels are all washed and dried, the showers only drip,
The bat boys are all back in school, the umpires hear no lip.

The season’s been exciting, we’ve been taken to new heights
And will the last one out of the locker room, please — turn off — the lights!

 



Say It Is So, Joe

by Hilary Barta

“Buck’s been canned” are the words which we pray.
You’d be banned if we fans had our way.
We can’t stand you, now please stay away.
Here’s a grand, there’s a highway, go play.

 



Classroom (at a Bar)

by Stephen Jones

Question of relativity:
Which came first —
The player or the ball?

Question of old history:
When did the strike zone
Become a judgement call?

(Note: Question #1 was tabled,
As a “discussion” was started
about the merits of juice …
And Question #2 was stumbled
Over by be-spectacled
Umpires, and after boos.)

 



Special Interest Fan

by Raphael Badagliacci

I like the Dodgers.
I like the Astros.
I like the winding,
Treacherous way
Every bit of every game
Goes.
I root for certain earthly aspects
That give a glimpse of heaven:
My love seen through the upstairs windows
And yet another Game Seven.

 



That’ll Show ‘Em

by Jim Siergey

A homer! I caught it. Look, see?
So many would love to be me!
But, not from a ‘Stro (shit!)
So back I must throw it
to prove I have team loyalty.

 

AL East

NL East

Extra Innings

AL Central

NL Central

Poems by Type

AL West

NL West

Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.