Browse all poems and songs in the 'The Game Itself' Category


The Seventh Game

by the Village Elliott

Once again starting pitching had sucked;
Saved by double play Joe Panik plucked;
.     Bochy didn’t have a doubt
.     Mad Bum would get last out,
And Royals’ title the Giants abduct.

(And the Royals get their title hopes f**ked.)

 



World Series Pop Quiz

By Stephen Jones

The Royals must be hoping
The answer to this quizzing.

Class – here’s a math curve ball.
Will the home team win it all?
Suppose it plays Game Seven
At home. What’s the percent, then?

The Royals may be singing
The answer to this quizzing.

You in the back – what did you say?
Eight out of ten teams win the day?
That’s 80% – and numbers don’t lie.
Maybe that’s the KC reason why

It must be smiling
During pop quizzing.

 



It All Comes Down To

By Stuart Shea

A Baseball Fan’s Heaven–
World Series Game Seven.
So Let’s Turn it Up to Eleven!



True Heart of a Champion

by the Village Elliott

Dedicated to Johnny Kuenn, Curt Flood, Bob Gibson and the 1964 World Champion St. Louis Cardinals. Written in 2005.

Yo, Chief, stop the presses,
The Red Sox successes
Worth an “Extra” to proudly proclaim,
Nigh a century’s passed
Since we last topped our mast-
Head with “Sox Win Final Series Game!”
Put the champagne to chill
Next to Ted’s head, he will
Then defrost, tip his cap, drink a toast,
To Aught-Four edition
Of BoSox Tradition;
“We swept Out ‘Curse of Babe,’” they can boast.

To get rid of their angst,
They swept back the Yanks,
Then swept Cards, their Series nemesis,
Who beat Sox half the four
They’ve played, lost since “Babe Swore;”
Sweeping Birdies adds greatly to bliss!
Yes, Sox swept my Redbirds
Whose play evokes these words:
“Cards played like all-time worst Series team.”
And though they did not quit,
Were never quite in it;
The World Series sweep felt quite extreme!

I salute the Red Sox
For destroying their “Pox,”
In a manner befitting their Curse,
But before they grow smug,
And relapse with their “Bug,”
Here is my opinion, cast in verse:
It’s now a new season,
Each team has its reason
To think maybe this might be their year,
While every team’s fans
Are now making fall plans
To partake of team’s “World Series Cheer!”

I recall Connie Mack,
When Al Simmons came back,
The next spring, after winning bat title:
“To be ‘True Champion,’
You must win second one.
Defending your crown, this is vital!”
“I believe that I shall,”
Replied Bucket-Foot Al,
And, indeed, as bat champ, did repeat.
So, if “Champions: True,”
What the BoSox must do
Is again avoid last game defeat.

I would be most remiss,
If I didn’t quote this,
‘bout Bob Gibson’s last World Series start:
When Cards’ bubble went bust,
Gibby repaid the trust
Of ex-skipper’s “Commitment to Heart:”
“Curt Flood caught too many
For me to say any-
Thing but I’m the one whose pitch was grooved!”
“Upstairs,” Johnny Keane smiled
When the Akasha filed:
The “True Heart of a Champ” has been proved!

Please, remember th’ advice
Of poet Grantland Rice:
“The Intangibles are paramount!
If ‘True Heart’ leads the way,
Every game that you play,
Then the ‘Final Score’ ends in your count.”
Way back when the Romans
Hit “Homers in Gloamins,”
Mare Nostrum sun-fielded their portal,
So, no matter how high,
One may rise in the sky,
Remember that we are but mortal!

Postscript:

Two years on: How ‘bout that!
Wearing my Redbirds hat,
For Game Five, when my Cardinals won,
When last out recorded,
Felt my Faith rewarded,
The Cards could be next “True Champion!”

One Year On:

The next season, Cards fold.
Off-field drama grew old.
Birdies fail ere they make playoffs,
But the Red Sox won crown,
Adding to team’s renown
For astute player movement payoffs.

 



Who Woulda Thunk?

by Stephen Jones

The Giants are flirting with destiny,
The Royals are a star-crossed team –
Yet neither got the goodwill scrutiny
In Vegas, where hope is but a dream.

Blind Vegas wrote reams
Of its number streams,
The odds which it put down on paper,
But no one, it seems,
Trusted these two teams
To play for it all in October.

 

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.