Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Orange and Black
They never slack
Did you see Renteria bat?
His back deserves a pat
Lincecum pitched well
It made me feel swell
Posey hit far
He made the World Series look like a war
Wilson finished up the game
In the next one, hope he does the same
Four to one the Rangers lost
I wonder how much the trophy costs
All in all
I love Baseball!
knows dirt makes the game—
clay makes firms footing;
sand perfects bounce.
The ballpark may crumble,
yet, the last morning of the last game,
the groundskeeper tends the grass,
edges lip build-up, and leaves.
He is the here that isn’t here,
maker of what must grow or not
around our mound of dust.
His field is our mother—each
winding up is promise—and hope.
Susanna wrote and narrated this poem for “Cobb Field: A Day at the Ballpark,” Craig Lindvahl’s documentary, for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film can frequently be seen on the MLB Network. Susanna has been published numerous times in Spitball and read frequently at the Yoga Berra Museum at Montclair State University in New Jersey.
Once you’ve been saved
by the Church of
St. Baseball—the
game is All: the
Hot Dog! grill’s the
altar; bases
are stations of
the moss; the pope’s
on second; cheers
are chants; every
hit aches for the
sky; every word
is—Say Hey!—a
prayer for home.
Susanna wrote and narrated this poem for “Cobb Field: A Day at the Ballpark,” Craig Lindvahl’s documentary, for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film can frequently be seen on the MLB Network. Susanna has been published numerous times in Spitball and read frequently at the Yoga Berra Museum at Montclair State University in New Jersey.
Playoff baseball
Impossible to script
Heroes will emerge
Some unsung
Joining the ranks of stars
From Mathewson
To Jeter
All the rivalries
Loyalties
Hopes and expectations
Of fans everywhere
On display
Pinnacle of the sport
Who will be
This year’s
Mr. October?
Numbers on our chests,
numbers on our backs,
numbers on
the wall.
I stand and stand here
waiting for my
number to be called.
What does it matter?
The ball hits
the mitt—
and I know
I’m here.
The bat
hits the ball—
I belong.
I belong.
It’s the ball—crazy,
crazy comet—
that lets me
know:
I’m here.
I have
a name.
I count.
I’m here.
I have a name.
I count.
I count.
Susanna wrote and narrated this poem for the documentary “Cobb Field: A Day at the Ballpark,” for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film can frequently be seen on the MLB Network. Susanna has been published numerous times in Spitball and reads frequently at the Yoga Berra Museum at Montclair State University in New Jersey.