by Michael X. Ferraro
The fans in the stands said,
“This foul ball or your life!”
Mookie said, “I’m thinking”–
In the Bronx, best bring a knife.
Get Me Rewrite!
by James Finn Garner
The Tinseltown Team looking fab
The Bombers in line for the slab
Then a flick of the wrist
A storyline twist
And our hope for more games gets a jab.
World Series ’24, Game 4
by Fred Lovato
Bottom third grand slam
Yanks take lead, hold on for win
Spike Lee seemed happy
O Captain! My Captain!
by Hart Seely
O Captain! my Captain!
Our fearful trip is done,
The ship has sprung a thousand leaks,
The prize we sought is gone.
The end is near, the drums I hear,
The bleachers steadily clearing,
The faithful weep; in sight, a sweep,
Juan Soto disappearing.
But o, Boone! Boone! Boone!
Bring gallon jugs of wine,
For deep on deck my Captain lies,
Struck out, oh for nine.
Homeward Bound
Sung to the tune of the Simon & Garfunkel song
I’m sitting here at second base
Was patient with the Dodgers’ ace
Mmm-mmmm
At last I found a pitch to hit
Hope my teammates find some grit
Not asking for a new Mike Schmidt
Just one at-bat where they don’t quit
Homeward bound
I wish I was homeward bound
Home, oh my legs are twitching
Home, but the Dodgers’ pitching
Home, my Yanks bewitching
Staring at strike three…
Be it Soto, Chisholm, Aaron Judge,
Can someone come through in the clutch?
Mmm-mmmm
What a time to lose their steam
Can’t blame the fans for venting spleens
Does Boonie even have a scheme?
Feel like I’m in a Freudian dream
Homeward bound
I wish I was homeward bound.
Home, oh my legs are twitching
Home, but the Dodgers’ pitching
Home, my Yanks bewitching
Staring at strike three…
