Browse all poems and songs in the 'Players' Category


Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Gotta Curve Somebody”

by Jim Siergey

You may be a young fast baller for Cleveland or Pitt
You may like to rear back and put heat on it
You may want to strike out eight-teen batters a game
You may dream of the high life filled with fortune and fame

But you’re gonna have to curve somebody, if you wanna stay
You’re gonna have to curve somebody
If it’s not in the Big Leagues, then it will be Triple-A
But you’re gonna have to curve somebody

You might be fed cock ‘n’ bull stories about how you’ll be a star
You might have scouts with radar guns readin’ how fast you are
You may have a businessman to help sign you for a lot
They may call you Doctor K but call you up, they will not

Cuz you’re gonna have to curve somebody, if you wanna stay
You’re gonna have to curve somebody
If it’s not in the Big Leagues, then it will be Triple-A
But you’re gonna have to curve somebody

You maybe can reach back with your physical skill
And feel you can reach the mountain top strictly through your will
You may be thinkin’ that you can’t be stopped, at a hundred miles an hour
You may be somebody’s “can’t miss” but you’ll head straight to the showers

Cuz you’re gonna have to curve somebody, if you wanna stay
You’re gonna have to curve somebody
If it’s not in the Big Leagues, then it will be Triple-A
But you’re gonna have to curve somebody

They may call you Nolan, or even Big Train
They may call you Warren Spahn and then pray for rain
They may call you Sandy or maybe Aroldis
They may call you anything but you’d best answer to this

You’re gonna have to curve somebody, if you wanna stay
You’re gonna have to curve somebody
If it’s not in the Big Leagues, then it will be Triple-A
But you’re gonna have to curve somebody



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “If Not For Trout”

by James Finn Garner

If not for Trout
The Angels would be a shame
Wouldn’t win a single game
The bottom would drop out
If not for Trout

If not for Trout
Big A would be humdrum
Fans might even watch the Bums
Talk about a drought
If not for Trout

If not for Trout, Pujols would quit
Scioscia would get the heave
Escobar would be hitting the bricks
They’d be lost if not for Steve

If not for Trout
They would be Triple A
Simmons would beg for a trade
A stinking mess throughout
If not for Trout

 



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Sale, Baby, Sale”

by James Finn Garner

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

Don’t care that Fenway’s a hitters’ park
Dave Dombrowski’s set to make his mark
Lots of lefties pitching for this team
Lots of taters hit into the green

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

With Benintendi, Bogaerts, Mookie Betts,
Faithful bean-eaters might forget
That choke in Cleveland in the first round
They’ll still come out–big college town

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

 



A Wealth of Talent

by Stephen Jones

Baseball’s going through a tidal surge.
It’s not some drug-related purge
Or hair-split tweaks speeding up the game
Or (gasp) Pete Rose in the Hall of Fame.

It’s a force of nature
On the field of dreams:
Youth’s replaced stature
On many a team.

 



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.

 

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