by Doug White
.
He once chased Aaron and Ruth
With the callow aggression of youth,
But from his head to his toes,
Just like Petey F. Rose,
McGwire won’t face up to the truth.
Posted 5/17/10
South Side Fireworks, Inside
by James Finn Garner
.
On Opening Day at the Cell,
Amidst the ravening horde,
The men’s room witnessed a tryst ‘twixt
A South Side lady and lord.
All the prudes and official blue-noses
Who by this action were floored
Should think of the White Sox’s condition
And be grateful that somebody scored.
Posted 4/26/10
The Last Time I Saw Maris
by Joe Pacheco
The last time I saw Maris
His hair was thin and gray,
He’d only hit just one home run
Since last Memorial Day.
The last time I saw Maris
His record still at risk,
In Babe Ruth’s town they’d brought him down
With bogus asterisk.
He smiled through all the muted cheers
That he had heard for years,
The chorus of ingratitude
Still ringing in his ears.
The last time I saw Maris
Was on Old-Timers Day,
Before the steroid sluggers
Came to batter his fame away.
.
Posted 4/15/2010
Brand New Allegory
by Sid Yiddish
.
In November,
When trees become slender
Why is baseball still being played?
We’ve strayed into dangerous territory
A brand new allegory
That sadly cannot be fixed
What we learn,
When there is money to burn
Is not much, to say the least
Just as long as there are hops and yeast added to the mix
A few more tickets to sell
And a couple of hotdogs too
The game could be played well into December,
A month when we traditionally feel the warmth of glowing embers,
But the idea of frostbitten toes and fingers just makes no sense!
I mean, can you imagine Chicago’s Carlos Zambrano in a big gray parka, scarf over mouth while pitching an ice ball straight over the plate, while St Louis’ Mark DeRosa is shivering and shuffles his feet just to keep warm and knocks the ice ball right into the stands, causing fans to slip on ice patches and scuffle over an ice ball, thereby giving frostbite and twisted ankles to several fans in sub-zero temperatures, while both bullpens are warming up with giant bonfires made from Louisville Sluggers?
Well, I can.
But I don’t want to.
And this is why baseball should not go beyond mid-October.
For on Christmas Day, I don’t want some guy say, “Can’t wait for the annual New Year’s Major League Snowball Bash.”
.
Posted 11/9/2009
The Ballad of Susan Finkelstein
by James Finn Garner
.
The girl had “Phillie Fever”,
A massive fall attack.
The only cure required her
To lay down on her back.
To nab a pair of tickets,
What must a clever girl do?
A “Dirty Utley”? “Around the Lidge”?
A “Hamels Camel” or two?
But the cops horned in, and now her pic’s
Been spread across the nation.
Next time, p’raps, she first should try
Some Manuel stimulation.
.
Posted 10/29/2009