Browse all poems and songs in the 'Former Teams' Category

Jake in June

By Stuart Shea

Freed from the Oriole Way
Was Jake Arrietay
Came to Chicago to play
Did Jake Arrietay.
Mowed down hitters all day
Did Jake Arrietay
With a beard of sunburned hay
Did Jake Arrietay.


by Ember Nickel

The Giants climb down swiftly from the Rockies’ dizzy heights;
The Dodgers always flinch, still without trolleys in their sights.
The Mariners seek Marlins, but must fight Pirates instead.
The Diamondbacks rove underfoot; so do Sox White and Red.
Since the Royals give them power to preserve the public peace,
The Rangers delegate it, calling the PC police
Who, once alerted, start tracking down the Indians and Braves.
As the Angels sing their harmonies about power that saves,
The Padres cast out Devils from the now-more-blessed Rays
(The Cardinals don’t help, but fly with Orioles and Blue Jays.)
Both Twins make twice the trouble for the Brewers at their bars,
The Astros seem to seek a noun, but gaze up at the stars.
The Phillies, likewise adjectival, might just run like horses;
Though Cubs are hibernating, Tigers might gnaw them for courses.
The Reds in turn just burn with pride, unless they’re commie spies,
In which case the Yankees will deal with them, which could prove unwise.
The Nationals would help out, but they’re missing Montreal.
The Met(ropolitans) have found a city to play ball;
But only the Athletics look in shape to play some games.
Which is why it’s just as well that they’re just mascots, not real names.

“Let’s Keep the Dodgers in Brooklyn” by Phil Foster

Fun Fact: Veteran performer Phil Foster, “Brooklyn’s Ambassador to the World”, played Frank DeFazio, Laverne’s pizzeria-owning father, on “Laverne and Shirley.”

Ballad of Bitter Words

by John Kieran

Why, Mr. Terry, oh! why did you ever
Chortle the query that made Brooklyn hot?
Just for the crack that you thought was so clever,
Now you stand teetering right on the spot!
Vain was your hope they forgave or forgot;
Now that you’re weary and bowed with fatigue,
Here is the drama and this is the plot:
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.

Sir, if they can they will blithely dissever
Giants in segments unequal or not.
Homicide, Bill, is their plan and endeavor;
Staring on Ryan and Jackson and Ott,
You they expect to reduce to a blot.
La guerre a la mort! (Or in German “Der Krieg!”)
Vengeance they want to the ultimate jot:
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.

Detroit awaits you? Says Lopez: “Ah, never!”
Pennant for Terry? Says Casey: “What rot!”
Using your scorn as a club or a lever,
Brooklyn will labor and chisel and swat.
Prize in the bag — now it may go to pot!
(Furnish sad music by Haydn or Grieg),
Bill, you won’t like it a bit or a lot;
Brooklyn, dear fellow, is still in the league.


At the start of the 1934 season, NY Giants manager Bill Terry made the off-hand jab about his local opposition: “Brooklyn? Are they still in the league?” The Dodgers used it as a rallying cry and kept the 1933 champs from repeating, beating the Giants down the stretch in dramatic fashion and helping the Cardinals take the pennant.

Published in the New York Times, September 29, 1934

Imploring the Fates to Intercede on Behalf of the Baseball Fans of the North Side of Chicago

By Stuart Shea

Right by the lake,
The home of mistakes,
Wrigley Field, where fans make a din.

100 years old,
Stories untold,
Waiting for a World Series win.

Tickle this town!
Just one crown
Would make the old and young ones grin.

Will it be so?
Will we ever know
The joy of a winner
That feels just like sin?


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