by Millie Bovich
Max Scherzer with Tigers behind ‘im
Throws pitches where hitters can’t find ‘em
Twenty-one wins to post
Making most batters toast
We’re delighted that management signed ‘im!
By Stuart Shea
Congratulations to the Bucs,
Too many years a team that sucks.
McCutch the likely MVP,
Good pitching and defense are key.
They’ll have a chance for bigger fame,
If they keep Clint Hurdle out of the game.
by James Finn Garner
If Houston’s the most valuable franchise,
As Forbes Magazine did just say,
Then our economic assumptions
Are a foundation made of clay.
To be valuable, apparently, is to
Never spend your cash, just hoard it,
Yet I keep hearing the voice of Chico Marx:
“For us not to play, you couldn’t afford it.”
by Michael X. Ferraro
Baseball in August creates many jobs
for travel agents and typesetting slobs.
Rehab assignments, Triple A spot starts,
Pennant aspirants shopping for spare parts.
Roster gods move in mysterious ways–
David DeJesus, three teams in five days?
Colin Cowgill’s grin, Billy Buckner’s frown.
Holy Toledo, Phil Coke’s been sent down!
Some guys can’t clear waivers; others released,
Plus one salary dump in the NL East.
(The Mets helped Pittsburgh in a deal most absurd—
Just tossed them a Buck and flipped them a Byrd.)
Eduardo Sanchez, gone from the big club.
But Ma Arrieta, Jake’s now a Cub!
Brad Boxberger sighs, packs for the bushes.
John Axford heads where the playoff push is.
Contenders reload, pretenders cut bait.
Hey Tuffy Goseswisch, Reno’s your fate.
Jose Constanza the Braves did recall,
with hopes that he’ll help them deep into Fall.
Philly’s less Savery—no Joe in the bigs;
Report sir, at once, to the Iron Pigs.
Ross Wolf’s been optioned to Round Rock Express,
while the Dodgers scooped up Edinson Volquez.
One-line transactions, a queer kind of fame.
Vic Black, you’ve become “Player To Be Named.”
Xavier Avery’s now a Rainier,
maybe Seattle, he’ll see you next year?
Michael X. Ferraro is a writer/producer/lyricist who scans the fine print daily to make sure he hasn’t been outrighted to Lehigh Valley.
By Stuart Shea
I once had a team,
Or should I say,
It once had me.
And though they played bad,
Their park appealed–
I sat through Jim Kremmel, Chuck Rainey, and Wayne Nordhagen–
Mike Vail and Karl Pagel were touted as saviors back then.
Sat terrace reserved,
Bleachers and box,
Never threw rocks.
And when they played well,
I cheered loud,
Part of the crowd.
But 2003 was so bitter that I had to leave,
And since then they’ve given no reasons that I ought to grieve.
I still love the game,
If somebody plays, I
Watch every day.
But root for the Cubs?
That’s in the can.
No longer a fan.