Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
An opinionated pierogi
(Not bratwurst, donut or hoagie)
Got canned by the Bucs,
Who then looked liked schmucks.
He’s back racing — that doughy rogue, he!
.
For background on this newsworthy event, click here.
Posted 7/7/2010
By Todd Herges
To stand on a crest
In the two o’clock shade
‘Neath the bough of an ever green cedar
On a mid-summer day
When the sky is so blue so full
Of nothing but promise
Of a gentle late-summertime breeze
And later a gentle night shower …
To look southward
And forward
And toward a great rift
Of a great river valley below
And see the rise of soft shoulders beyond …
Is to stand without feeling
Your feet or your height
Or your avoirdupois at all
And to think that right now
As the spring turns to fall
It’s good to be here in Nebraska.
Posted 7/4/10
By Joe Moag
In the wake of Blackhawks glory
Here in June’s endemic swoon
The heart craves a better story
One where Cubs will shoot the moon!
But the standings tell no lies
And October fades from view
When hitters swat like flies
It’s time to seek a sport brand new
See, October was the goal
With World Series dreams at ready.
But now Niemi fills that role!
And I dream of June confetti!
Posted 7/1/10
By Joe Moag
Unto He!
Unto He, the new rookie,
He with an arm fit to hoist Zeus’ bolt,
Fit to slay our past; fit to redeem our degradations.
Unto He, our welcomed savior!
A reprieve from years of ill, from years of doubt,
From years of lowness.
Unto He, the Lifter!
Unto He, the Changer!
Unto He, the Future!
Unto He, Alleviator of this state
Of prolonged exile, of overdue vengeance,
Of our just and righteous payback!
Unto He we place this proof
That our faith, traveled across orphanage and dismissal,
Our Faith, that thing
Which steeled our resolve
To simply stay in the game long enough,
Has borne fruit! It has brought
Him, here, to Us.
No light as bright as this has ever shone, only to
Fall away in wreckage through the dimming of life’s cold onslaughts and hurly-burl!
Immortals don’t flinch, or suffer, or miss their mark – they shine!
Our wait itself is the toil and testament to the surety of this!
This Game and its Gods, who sit high and low,
Sworn sacred to the mischief in their souls
Could never be jealous enough
To make this foreseen future, this deserved fate,
Fall short.
Posted 6/27/10
by Stephen Jones
A tough place to be
10 inches higher than home plate
(wheel work hub to
the elongated arch of bases)
is the pitcher’s mound
A tough place to be
when fans & cameras & commentators
focus on a dome of earth
on an arm & its delivery
to the hub/to home plate
A tough place to be
when all works or doesn’t
Head heart mind body
focused or not in this moment
To be a pitcher on the mound
A tough place to be
Posted 6/25/10