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Shakespearean Baseball Sonnet #15

by Michael Ceraolo

When I consider every game that’s played
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
No matter where such moment is displayed,
No matter the media who comment,
And I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered or jeered under any and all skies,
Vaunt their youthful sap, only to decrease,
Eventually left with mere memories.
Try not to think of this inconstant stay
Of vigor with less than complete delight,
Though wasteful Time debateth with decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night;
Forget the war with Time we all must lose,
And make lasting your fame from today’s news.

 

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Yankees 6, Houston 2

by Stephen Jones

So many new faces on the Yankee roster —
Triple A-ers getting fan attention —
And it felt like April, not September,
On a warm Friday night in Houston.

It was nice, for just a moment, to forget
Where the Pinstripe season has gone this year
And instead to relish the moment
When new faces might be the Yankee future.

 

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Long Out

by Van

What I remember the most– is the silence,
a white orb in a blue sky,
me silently digging across the green grass–
a stretch beyond reach–
the ball striking my glove’s pocket.
Perhaps a tumble. Perhaps not.
Looking into third–
the coaches hands up!
You’re out,
and the runner
stopping,
stunned,
looking at me
cursing me with his body.
You’re out, young man.
You’re out.

 

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Field of Dreams (1989)

by Bob McKenty

This “Field of Dreams” was once a field of corn
Until a voice mysteriously sends
Kinsella on a quest. A ballfield’s born:
Necropolis for Shoeless Joe and friends.
More voices. Off to Boston to enlist,
If necessary, kidnap (petty crime).
A surly writer (Sixties activist).
They’ll cross the country and the bounds of time
To give dead Moonlight Graham his first at-bat
Against a big-league pro. Emergency!
Doc Graham to the rescue. Who is that
(The catcher)? Looks familiar. Can it be…?!
A corny story certainly. So why
Does “Wanna have a catch, Dad?” make me cry?

 

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Shohei’s Plea

by Rajesh C. Oza

In memory of “Fiddler on the Roof’s” Sheldon Harnick, 1924-2023

Trademaker, Trademaker
Find me a team,
Catch me a win.

Trademaker, Trademaker
Look to your scouts.
And make me a perfect trade.

Night after night on the Halos I’m alone
So find me a match,
Of my own.

I’ll bring my arm,
My big bat, too.
Bring me a ring
For I’m longing to be,
The envy of all I see.

For Papa,
Make me a winner.
For Mama,
Make me rich as a king.

For me, well,
I wouldn’t holler
If just once I wore a World Series ring.

Trademaker, Trademaker
Find me a team,
Catch me a win.

Trademaker, Trademaker
Look to your scouts.
And make me a perfect trade.

Dr. Oza is a management consultant and facilitates the interpersonal dynamics of MBAs at Stanford University. His novel, Double Play, will be published in 2024 by Chicago’s Third World Press.