Browse all poems and songs in the 'History' Category


“Joe Dimaggio Done It Again” by Billy Bragg and Wilco

 



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.



Tainted Bud

by the Village Elliott

Once the Hall was for those who were studs
Whose names were not dragged through the mud.
Seems no longer the case
With Bud Selig in place,
Sets new precedent with tainted Bud.

 



That Gallant Pirate Crew

by James Francis Burke

From the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, October 16, 1925, when the Pirates vanquished the Senators after being down 3-1 in the World Series.

Were it not for Prohibition,
Which has made the country dry,
I’d fill a wine glass brimming
And lift it toward the sky
And drink a royal bumper —
In fact, I’d make it two —
To good old Bill McKechnie
And his gallant Pirate crew.

But wine is gone forever —
At least, that’s what I hear,
And hence a thirsty poet
Can only stand and cheer
For those whose names are written
‘Mid the skies eternal blue:
The names of Barney Dreyfus
And his gallant Pirate crew.

The Capital’s in mourning,
But the nation’s all arrayed
In the colors of the rainbow
Whose bright hues never fade.
For the Buccaneers are victors —
One can hardly think it’s true —
So here’s to Bill and Barney
And their gallant Pirate crew.

The dear old slow Potomac’s
Filled with tears from shore to shore;
The stately public buildings
Have crepe on every door;
While diplomats and statesmen
Have nothing left to do
But envy good old Pittsburgh
And her gallant Pirate crew.

But let’s be fair, my comrades,
And give the “Nats” their due:
They played the game like heroes,
Like sportsmen good and true.
And here’s a fan’s confession,
A tip twixt me and you:
It was not summer picnic
For our gallant Pirate crew.

 

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