Browse all poems and songs in the 'History' Category


Instant Replay

by James Finn Garner

Eric Hosmer’s modified mullet
MadBum casually firing bullets

Superfans from South Korea
The panicked look on Kelvin Herrera

Phantom sighting of the Freak
Plugging Aoki’s defensive leak

Peavy shelled like the Hellespont
Escobar laying down a bunt???

Joe Buck opining from his tuchus
Of redoubtable Mike Moustakas

Gordon’s single to the wall
Cool-as-horchata Sandoval

What the hell is Ned Yost thinking?
I’ll have whatever Pence is drinking

Crawford gobbles up ground balls
Bochy weeps, and Affeldt bawls

Young Joe Panik, Dyson, Cain…
Can we please do it all again?

 



The Seventh Game

by the Village Elliott

Once again starting pitching had sucked;
Saved by double play Joe Panik plucked;
.     Bochy didn’t have a doubt
.     Mad Bum would get last out,
And Royals’ title the Giants abduct.

(And the Royals get their title hopes f**ked.)

 



October Replays

by James Finn Garner

While Giants fans
And Royal loyals
watch the see-saw
with short breath
life-and-death

I feel like I do when I’m watching
an old favorite movie,
and the second-from-last scene is playing
as succulently as ever

“I couldn’t be fonder of you if you were my own son. But, well, if you lose a son, it’s possible to get another.”
“Love is eternal. It has been the strongest motivation for human actions throughout history. Love is stronger than life. It reaches beyond the dark shadow of death.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect.”

But it will be over soon, like always,
And time disappears again
like always
And I walk up the stairs in the dark house
And hope to sleep
All the way til morning.

 



True Heart of a Champion

by the Village Elliott

Dedicated to Johnny Kuenn, Curt Flood, Bob Gibson and the 1964 World Champion St. Louis Cardinals. Written in 2005.

Yo, Chief, stop the presses,
The Red Sox successes
Worth an “Extra” to proudly proclaim,
Nigh a century’s passed
Since we last topped our mast-
Head with “Sox Win Final Series Game!”
Put the champagne to chill
Next to Ted’s head, he will
Then defrost, tip his cap, drink a toast,
To Aught-Four edition
Of BoSox Tradition;
“We swept Out ‘Curse of Babe,’” they can boast.

To get rid of their angst,
They swept back the Yanks,
Then swept Cards, their Series nemesis,
Who beat Sox half the four
They’ve played, lost since “Babe Swore;”
Sweeping Birdies adds greatly to bliss!
Yes, Sox swept my Redbirds
Whose play evokes these words:
“Cards played like all-time worst Series team.”
And though they did not quit,
Were never quite in it;
The World Series sweep felt quite extreme!

I salute the Red Sox
For destroying their “Pox,”
In a manner befitting their Curse,
But before they grow smug,
And relapse with their “Bug,”
Here is my opinion, cast in verse:
It’s now a new season,
Each team has its reason
To think maybe this might be their year,
While every team’s fans
Are now making fall plans
To partake of team’s “World Series Cheer!”

I recall Connie Mack,
When Al Simmons came back,
The next spring, after winning bat title:
“To be ‘True Champion,’
You must win second one.
Defending your crown, this is vital!”
“I believe that I shall,”
Replied Bucket-Foot Al,
And, indeed, as bat champ, did repeat.
So, if “Champions: True,”
What the BoSox must do
Is again avoid last game defeat.

I would be most remiss,
If I didn’t quote this,
‘bout Bob Gibson’s last World Series start:
When Cards’ bubble went bust,
Gibby repaid the trust
Of ex-skipper’s “Commitment to Heart:”
“Curt Flood caught too many
For me to say any-
Thing but I’m the one whose pitch was grooved!”
“Upstairs,” Johnny Keane smiled
When the Akasha filed:
The “True Heart of a Champ” has been proved!

Please, remember th’ advice
Of poet Grantland Rice:
“The Intangibles are paramount!
If ‘True Heart’ leads the way,
Every game that you play,
Then the ‘Final Score’ ends in your count.”
Way back when the Romans
Hit “Homers in Gloamins,”
Mare Nostrum sun-fielded their portal,
So, no matter how high,
One may rise in the sky,
Remember that we are but mortal!

Postscript:

Two years on: How ‘bout that!
Wearing my Redbirds hat,
For Game Five, when my Cardinals won,
When last out recorded,
Felt my Faith rewarded,
The Cards could be next “True Champion!”

One Year On:

The next season, Cards fold.
Off-field drama grew old.
Birdies fail ere they make playoffs,
But the Red Sox won crown,
Adding to team’s renown
For astute player movement payoffs.

 



Giants Southpaws

by the Village Elliott

Again Giants southpaw with stubble
Gives World Series foes scoring trouble.
.    Last three Series Mad Baum
.    Won three games with aplomb;
Four score years ago it’s Carl Hubbell.

 

AL East

NL East

Extra Innings

AL Central

NL Central

Poems by Type

AL West

NL West

Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.