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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.

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Gut Check Time

by Greg Simetz

Fans remember well
Thompson’s ‘Shot Heard ‘Round the World’
Giants fans cheered
Dodgers fans hurled

But a new shot was heard
at Guaranteed Rate
causing Sox fans to scatter
after only Beer Number Eight

A smuggled gun went undected
In belly fat it was tucked
And when the lard pulled the trigger
even LaRussa woke up

One person was wounded
another was grazed
but the White Sox kept playing
losers still but unfazed

Then peace was restored
when cops ID’d the plump chick
and in court she was sentenced
to life on Ozempic.