Would Triples Still Go There to Die?

by the Village Elliott

Here at Jints’ game I had this thought,
When “can of corn” in sun-field’s caught:
When Giants moved to Candlestick,
The Senior Circuit feared Mays’ stick,
Knew “Say Hey” was the only guy
Whose triples fell where others’ died;
In basket-web of Willie’s glove,
By Grace of sweet Talullah’s love.

But, if Mays played at ATT,
Just how great would his career be
While patrolling Triples Alley
To left-center’s deep Death Valley?
Would triples still go there to die?
What reason is there to deny,
That to these fans now sitting here
Willie is worth more here each year?

 

I Am Some Body!

by Jim Siergey

O, how I wish Destiny put
As catcher, one day, Barry Foote
While on the mound lands
The hurler Bill Hands
I’d pay an arm and a leg to see that

The bullpen is aptly in place
With perfectly named Elroy Face
As one last zinger
We add Rollie Fingers
With Heinie Manush up to bat

As he comes to the plate, there’s a buzz,
The one man with the name to give pause,
Each syllable clear-
Ly a body part dear:
Here comes man-of-parts Tony Armas!

 

Twin Tales

by James Finn Garner

Rod Carew
Swung as smooth
As warm cashew
Butter

While Killebrew
Did tattoo
Many a drooping
Cutter

Jim Kaat
Knew thaat
His curve could make baats
Flutter

Jim Perry
Never varied
Or cheated like his hairy
Brutter

 

Underneath the Colors

by Dave Mesrey

I’ve seen Cobb and Ruth
roaming below
Shoeless Joe
DiMaggio

Goslin, Cochrane
and Schoolboy Rowe
Dizzy and Medwick
and Murderers Row

I’ve seen Gehrig and Greenberg
the Bomber, the Bull
The Kid and Jackie Robinson
and a house that was full

Jimmy Brown
and Bobby Layne
Old Lem Barney
and Night Train Lane

Yogi and Mickey
Gator and Cash
Don Wert’s single
Kaline’s mad dash

Lolich and Denny
Ozzie and Jake
Old Frank Feneck
at the All-Star break

Seen Marvin
Sing the anthem
Feliciano in blue

It changed the game
and America, too

Saw Horton nail Brock
Dock Ellis in shock

Saw Chuck Hughes fall
Where Butkus stood tall

Saw The Bird in his roost
Saw Gibby and Goose

Sparky and Rozey
Trammell and Lou
Mandela and Rosa
Little Stevie, too

Then Fick hit the roof
and the lights went out
And the ballpark crumbled
and the weeds did sprout

I watched as the diamond
Grew riven with trash
The basepaths and outfield
Scattered with ash

But the weeds were cut
and the field restored
And the heavens opened
and the rains, they poured

Navin Field
Our bond is true
Through the years
No matter the hue

I was lean
I was green
I grew rusty and blue

Like Harvey Kuenn
and Rod Carew

I am tall
I am frail

I am old
and I am grey

I am the flagpole
And I am all that remains

 

This poem first appeared in the blog for the Navin Field Grounds Crew.