Baseball Waltz (Let’s Go To The Ball Park)
Words and music by Tom Rinaldi
(Scroll down to play the MP3)
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There’s something about looking out on a big field of green
A diamond, four bases, and ninety feet in-between
The players go ‘round with their pant legs rolled up to their knees
The smell of fresh peanuts ‘a roasting is caught in the breeze
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Let’s go to the ball park
I haven’t been in a while
I used to watch my favorite slugger
Knock that baseball a mile
Let’s go to the ball park
Let’s be kids again
Hot dogs with mustard
And frozen custard
Just like it was back then
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The magic allure of the game is as pure as the snow
With nicknames like Lefty and Dizzy and Murderer’s Row
And nothing’s as pretty as watching the infield “get two”
Or watching a pop up fall out of a big sky of blue
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Repeat Chorus
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Where else can you go
Where they stop the show
Two-thirds of the way
Just to stretch and sing a song
Before they continue to play?
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[audio:http://bardball.com/audio/01 Track 1.mp3]Repeat Chorus
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Posted 6/5/2009
Let’s Watch Two!
by Todd Herges
Bright dawn blue sky
Cubbies play at 1:05.
Dad, Mom, sons, daughter
Head like lambs unto the slaughter..
Ride aboard the red line El,
Hope that Z will throw it well.
See the green, the grass, the board,
Hope Dad’s cash he will not hoard.
See the wall, the bricks, the ivy,
Hope that Z K’s Junior Spivey.
Smell the stale beer, puke, and links
D Lee’s sitting – Dad’s heart sinks.
But then Aramis hits a double,
Spoils the no-no, causes trouble.
Up in the booth a new guest sings
But not like Harry’s echoed rings.
One son for extra innings thanks
This day was one for Ernie Banks.
As Holly wraps it up so well,
The family knows the day’s been swell.
Then back aboard the loud red train
To the hotel – it looks like rain.
Glad it held off for these few hours,
Maybe thanks to higher powers,
Hack and Harry and Chance and Brown
Stand in the clouds and look straight down
Into the green grass lined by Waveland,
Sheffield, Addison – Chicago’s Graceland.
They held back rain, they hold back tears,
Been over a goddamn hundred years.
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Posted 5/28/2009
A Perfect Game
by Gregory K.
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Tonight we’re at a baseball game:
The minors (double A).
But I don’t care! it’s me and Dad –
My siblings stayed away!
My soda couldn’t be more flat.
My Cracker Jacks taste old.
The peanut vendor never came.
My hot dog caught a cold.
But Dad and I are having fun.
In fact, it’s quite a blast.
We’re talking, laughing, telling tales
As innings move on past.
He tells my why he loves the game,
Each hit, each out, each run.
I tell him why I don’t like math.
He says, “Like Dad, like son.”
I tell him that I had a crush,
How weak it made my knees.
He tells me how he met my mom
And when to try a squeeze.
I ask about a stolen base
And why folks like to dance.
He tells me tales of baseball greats
And all about romance.
Dreams, home runs, and silly jokes –
They all come up, and more.
Tonight we’re at a baseball game…
And we’re not keeping score.
Gregory K. is a screenwriter, poet, and volunteer school librarian. You can check out more of his work at http://gottabook.blogspot.com.
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Posted 5/22/2009
On Not Being Able to Say Aloud That WALKS KILL YOU
by Todd Herges
A dozen young boys,
caps colored alike,
dream diamond greatness
and shiny steel spikes.
But theirs are mere rubber,
no hair under arms.
They play just for love
and to earn coach’s charm.
Pitching is paramount.
Throwing strikes is the key.
Walks always kill,
issue two and you’ll see.
Don’t aim or you’ll miss,
hear the fat lady’s song.
The leash will be short,
the ump’s sweat stains grow long.
But these hairless boys
with soft cleats, fragile confidence,
hear the boos amid boosts,
and need upbeat assurance.
So I pick a distraction,
my disgust notwithstanding,
and I say: “Nothin’ hurt,
mind your foot where it’s landing.”
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Posted 5/19/2009