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Kershawmandias

By James Finn Garner

With apologies to Percy Shelley

Reprinted from October 11, 2019.

I met a traveler in La-La Land,
Who said, “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the Ravine . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half a ton of Gator-Ade cups lie,
And blue playoff towels now still,
And B-list actors hoping to flog their dreck
To Smoltz and the odious Buck,
And a mangled manager in a heap;
And on a whiteboard, these words appear:
‘My name is Kershawmandias, Ace of Aces;
Look on my season only, dammit, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the meltdown
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level field stretches far away.”

For the story behind this photo, visit Atlas Obscura.

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‘23 is the New ‘69

by Greg Simetz

A Billy goat, black cat, and Bartman with headphones–
Just a few novel ways which Cubs’ seasons have been blown.
Add the Babe’s called shot to the centerfield stands
And a Gatorade glove on Leon Durham’s right hand.

Then in 2016 Cubs’ curses got squished,
108 years of agony all mercifully vanquished.
But curses! A new scourge unleashed in late ‘23
Thwarted hot pursuit of wild-card playoff glory.

Blown saves and gaffes and bats that went dry,
Then Seiya Suzuki misjudged a routine high fly.
(One solution to the team’s most recent imbroglio:
Trade Suzuki to the Cards for pitcher Ernie Broglio.)

So another year ends with a historic choke job,
A lousy ‘69 rerun, where again fans got robbed.
The looney toons finish was just one more sad joke.
What else can be said but, “Th-th-th-th-that’s all folks!”

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End of Season at the MLB Tavern

by Stephen Jones

I was waiting at the bar for a playoff date
And looked at my watch. It’s getting late.
Then I heard the emphatic bartender,
With his fist pump, mask, and chest protector,
Announce to the lingering, glassy patrons:
“It’s last call. Closing time,” he intones
As he wipes the bar, satisfied with himself,
And begins putting teams on the postseason shelf —
Brands like Atlanta, Los Angeles, Baltimore, Tampa
(and just maybe Seattle, Chicago, or Philadelphia) —
And as he does, he continues to drone:
“It’s hotel-motel time if you can’t go home,
But right now, you can’t stay here —
And hey, better luck when we open next year.”

Pictured is Baseball Bill Holdforth, bartender and rabid DC baseball fan. For the story of how he worked to keep owner Bob Short out of the US Senate, check out this story from washingtonbaseballhistory.com.