Browse all poems and songs in the 'History' Category


Rogers Hornsby, Off-Season Poet

by Raphael Badagliacca

What do I do in Winter
When there’s no baseball
People want to know
Just one thing
I stare out the window
And wait for Spring.

 



Sammy Sosa, the Founder of Chicago

by James Finn Garner

Leave aside the famed DuSable
Who thought he wore this feather in his cap.
We’ll forgive you this historical bobble,
Twas Sammy Sosa put Chicago on the map.

Forget Jim Thompson and Hinky Dink Kenna
Who lay the town in corruption’s lap.
They came and went, but at the center,
Twas Sammy Sosa put Chicago on the map.

Dion O’Banion and Al Capone
Made sure the suds were e’er on tap.
Those slobs can’t call this town their own–
Twas Sammy Sosa put Chicago on the map.

Sure, Sandburg, Bellow, Studs could write,
Curtis Mayfield was a soulful chap,
Muddy Waters was a man, all right,
But Sammy Sosa put Chicago on the map.

I’ll admit MJ could play some hoops.
Hack, Ernie, Big Hurt and Pudge could slap
A few hits around, but no big whoops–
Twas Sammy Sosa put Chicago on the map.

 

Sosa’s colossal ego is on full display in a recent, rare interview with former Cubs PR man Chuck Wosserstrom.



Washington Swept Here

by Jim Siergey

Herb Washington
Designated to run
Not to shake hands
Or kiss baby’s faces
But solely to suit up
And steal some bases

 

We salute Herb on this other Washington’s birthday: 33 runs scored and 31 stolen bases in 105 games with nary a time at bat!



The Curse of the Billy Goat

by Mark Vincent

R. I. P.  Billy Goat Curse, 10/06/1945 – 11/02/2016

It started in Game Four of ’45
When Murphy, Billy’s goat, came to the game.
The Cubbies led the series, were alive,
About to claim some World Series fame.

The goat smelled bad and he was asked to leave.
His owner, Billy, wasn’t very happy.
He cursed the team; they lost. Chicago grieved.
The decades since, well, they’ve just been crappy.

But that, my friends, is finally in the past,
That blasted curse has now been laid to rest.
The pennant, then the Series won at last.
The Cubs can now stand proud, they are the best!

In seven games, and then an extra inning,
Chicago’s Cubs have found a new beginning!

 



Family Celebration

by the Village Elliott

For My Great-Uncle Art

Pleased Cubs fans celebrate victory,
Happy for part of my family:
Mom, who’s from near North Side
Tempered Dad’s Redbird pride,
My St. Louis baseball legacy.

Never had Chitown antipathy
All pervasive in Dad’s family.
Cubs were Mom’s first team,
Cuddly in the extreme,
Part of my gonfalon legacy.

I’ve learned, suggest no Cub fan forgets:
“Fickle Destiny Oft Fails Fans, Vets.”
Fate slammed ’68’s door
On my Cards’ destined score
And “eighty-sixed” the’86 Mets.

 

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.