The Hall of Fame’s honor and riches
Ron Santo deserved without pitches.
.      But denied for too long
.      Was the man’s well-earned song
By an old bunch of sons of bitches.

.

by Cary Donham

Ron’s a hero to folks diabetic
‘Cause on the field he was super-kinetic
.      Whether diving for balls
.      Or arguing calls
Or clicking his heels so aesthetic

Late autumn brings damp and rain;
The baseball season is over again.
The Redbirds were soaring;
Their fans were roaring.
And Texas went home empty-handed.

The holidays and new year’s come,
Bringing dreams of series rings to everyone.
The hot stoves start burning,
With free agent yearning,
And revulse at the salaries commanded.

Spring brings tulips and green grass.
Training and opening day are here at last.
Northern fans bundle for the game,
Southern weather is a lot more tame.
And all hope to catch a foul single-handed.

The late Samuel Henry Donham (a college and semi-pro first baseman whose career ended in injury, and later a junior high baseball coach) instilled a love of baseball in his family, including his daughter-in-law Becky. She is a longtime Cubs fan whose faith is wavering.

At bat was the great Solomon Mitzvah
A clutch-hitting Jew from South Boston’s Yeshiva Finstah
He smashed the ball hard,
Straight out of the yard
But it bounced back and wounded his kishkah.

In the winter they swarm to Caracas
Where the fans, true to form, shake maracas
.      Down there all the players
.      Don’t wear many layers
As the sun keeps them warm in the tuchas.

New York, London, Paris, Munich
Everybody talk about, mmm….
Pop music, aye, and news and sport
But to Bardball blast, we must retort

From the bleachers, and godly seats
Loving testimonies – and testy tweets
Au contraire, in Europe there is but little
Interest – like our economy, entirely brittle

In our excitement, we do refrain
From all small talk of one Ferris Fain
Unknown to us, across the Golden Pond
In our view, his sport just a frond

Of the nascent game we called rounders
Those damn Yankees – cads and bounders!

McCarver was a Cardinal
We’re taught to believe
He caught Bob Gibson
For his thumb he still grieves

Yet as an announcer
No praise for the Cards, just bashes
By omission or commission
The man’s head’s up his asses.

Alan is a sociology professor at Central Michigan University.

Was that Tony La Russa after all?
The glasses look right. I don’t know the eyes.
Was that a slider? Changeup? Or curveball?
Perhaps this would be a good place for wise

Commentators to…maybe…commentate.
They keep silent, cutaway to the same
Fan–wedding ring, hair dyed, breath quick to bate–
That they have been showing throughout the game.

Give me the details that I could not hear;
The red glove, the necklace striped blue and white.
We all are fans and we can all guess fear,
We know what is at stake on such a night.

And beyond night, I’ll try myself to share
The game with others–it’s morning out there.

Ember Nickel makes sport with the English language on her blog, Lipogram! Scorecard!

I wish Detroit had gone farther,
not so quickly emptied their larder
.     but I feel I’m in luck
.     to not hear Joe Buck
and double that for Colonel McCarver.

Was it the last dance?
The last dance for John and Suzy’s broadcast love
No, no, their last chance?
To get us to a big dance Thurs night
We need them beside us
Beside us, to guide us
Their boldness, that unfolds us
‘Cause when they’re sad
We’re so, so sad

So let’s not dance the last dance
No, no last dance
No, no last dance Thurs night

Was it the last dance?
The last dance for John and Suzy’s broadcast love
No, no their last chance?
To get us to the big dance Thurs night
We need them beside us
Beside us, to guide us
Their boldness, that unfolds us
‘Cause when they’re glad
We’re so, so glad

So let’s not dance the last dance
No, no last dance
No, no last dance thurs night

You can find more of David’s work throughout the Yankee blog, It Is High, It Is Far, It Is…..caught.

When Jose Reyes won the title
it gave us pause to check his mettle.
Which body part did serve him best:
His heart, his biceps, or his ass?