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The Prime of Mr. Vladimir Guerrero

By Stuart Shea

Standing tall and smiling, a friendly Angel with no halo,
Vladimir Guerrero.
It’s hard to believe he once was an Expo.

It hurts just to watch him run,
Gobbling turf with gigantic strides,
Hobbling on rusty knees.

Still lets baseballs loose like cannon fire,
Nailing some runners and
Scattering buckshot into the stands.

Tattoos pitches wherever they’re thrown,
High in the zone or at his ankles,
Just like Clemente.
And I’ll tell you what rankles—we’re ignoring him.

We’re watching a great player RIGHT NOW.
See that line-drive triple? How he legged it out, limping like a war vet,
Sliding in, a big grin,
Clapping his hands?
For God’s sake, people, stand up for the man!!

Posted 4/30/08 

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3 Detroit Tiger Haikus

by Gary Gillette

Detroit Tigers Haiku No. 1

Legless catchers spawn
Famously angry peaches.
Hay market/Hey, Michigan!

Detroit Tigers Haiku No. 2

Wahoo Sam divides
Matty Mac from Cobb the Peach.
The loon shrieks “Ee-yah.”

Detroit Tigers Haiku No. 3

Hank’s Hebrew hammer
Batters crystal hatred…knocked
To green fields beyond.

Posted 4/25/08

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What Would Barry Do?

By Lou Carlozo

Oh Barry Bonds! Ye baseball god!
Thanks to thy steroid brew.
So brothers, sisters, ask yourselves:
What Would Barry Do?

If asked to take the role of Scrooge
From off the dusty shelf,
Quoth Barry, “Let’s rewrite the script.
Tiny Tim can screw himself.”

If we elect Bonds president,
No press conference, woo hoo!
Just bats for the reporters heads–
Now that takes balls to do!

Should Bonds become a doctor?
Surely he deserves a shot,
And so would all his patients:
“Get the steroids while they’re hot!”

Now Barry’s with Paul Simon,
Off to write a song or two.
“Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
I wanna beat the shit outta you.”

So sing no song of Ernie Banks,
Al Kaline or Rod Carew–
They hold no light to Barry Bonds
(Not that they’d’ve wanted to).

‘Tis better to remain a class act
On the field, and off it too,
Or break a record honestly,
Something Barry cannot do.

Oh Barry Bonds! Ye baseball chump!
Your case stinks like a zoo.
We’ll change your name to “Bail” Bonds
When the charges stick to you.

Lou Carlozo is a Chicago Tribune staff writer and producer of the syndicated radio baseball talk show “Diamond Gems,” hosted by George Castle and Les Grobstein. He also produced “We’re Not Gonna Change It,” the song that won the Chicago-Sun Times’ contest imploring Sam Zell not to rename Wrigley Field. Hear the song at myspace.com/loucarlozo.

Posted 4/24/08 

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The Game of the Name

by Stu Shea

I.
Gallardo and Bazardo and Pichardo and DiNardo.
Baseball names are the funniest words,
Spoken loudly in public context.
You never know what’s next—
The announcer may yell, “Uggla, deep to left!”
Which only makes sense if you know the game.
What, indeed, is in a name?
Someone named “Pujols” can feel no shame…
In fact, he’s a hero instead of a zero.

II.
Prince Fielder can’t field,
And Lackey won’t yield,
Webb catches hitters, and Young’s getting old,
Holliday’s happy, but the Giants can’t Winn,
Corey’s got Hart and J.J. is Hardy,
Does Ryan need Church to wash away sin?

III.
I-Rod,
A-Rod,
K-Rod.

Posted 4/17/08

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Say Eh, Felix Pie, Say Eh! (With Slight Apologies To Willie Mays)

by Sid Yiddish

Say eh, Felix Pie, say eh!
Does it hurt much today?

I gather it’s worse than being strapped to a totem, than to have so much publicity attached to your torsioned scrotum.
Though humbling it seems, it happened in the winter, still it’s a true calamity, for it makes men squeal like girls by boys who given them toys like diamond rings, fur coats and shiny new cars.
Be that as it may, only a scar will hide away the familiarity with the actual case; no longer will it be based on balls, nor will it be having a ball, ‘coz now it’ll be harder, not as in boner, though…

It will still be tougher saving face.

So, say eh, Felix Pie, just say eh!
Does it really hurt that much today?

Posted 4/11/08