Browse all poems and songs in the 'James Finn Garner' Category


Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Edwin from the North Country”

by James Finn Garner

If you’re traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the fans’ behinds
Remember him for all the hits he had there
Edwin Encarnacion did his time

If you got used to the Jays winning games
By knocking hits and flipping bats
Saunders is gone, and Navarro the same
And Edwin’s now in Cleveland, swatting gnats

I’m a-wondering if he’ll remember them at all
The fans who came to see him play
As they drink and fight and lament
Watching Melvin Upton flail away

If you’re traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the fans’ behinds
Remember him for all the hits he had there
Edwin Encarnacion did his time

 



Mike “King” Kelly

by James Finn Garner

King Kelly was a man among men
You could tell he was in the pink when,
Charging the base like a crook,
He’d slide with foot hooked–
Immortalized in song, it was then.

 

On this St. Paddy’s Day, we salute King Kelly (1857-94), the son of Irish immigrants who played with the Chicago White Stockings (NL) and the Boston Beaneaters. Among the innovations credited to Kelly are the hit-and-run, catchers backing up first basemen, and the hook slide, which was immortalized in the song “Slide, Kelly, Slide!” 

 



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “If Not For Trout”

by James Finn Garner

If not for Trout
The Angels would be a shame
Wouldn’t win a single game
The bottom would drop out
If not for Trout

If not for Trout
Big A would be humdrum
Fans might even watch the Bums
Talk about a drought
If not for Trout

If not for Trout, Pujols would quit
Scioscia would get the heave
Escobar would be hitting the bricks
They’d be lost if not for Steve

If not for Trout
They would be Triple A
Simmons would beg for a trade
A stinking mess throughout
If not for Trout

 



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Sale, Baby, Sale”

by James Finn Garner

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

Don’t care that Fenway’s a hitters’ park
Dave Dombrowski’s set to make his mark
Lots of lefties pitching for this team
Lots of taters hit into the green

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

With Benintendi, Bogaerts, Mookie Betts,
Faithful bean-eaters might forget
That choke in Cleveland in the first round
They’ll still come out–big college town

Sale, baby, Sale
Flail at the heat he’s gonna bring
Sale, baby, Sale
Pitch the Sox to a Series ring

 



Bob Dylan’s 2017 Forecast: “Subterranean Baseball Finance Blues”

by James Finn Garner

Rays are in the basement
Ain’t got the tin to spend
Braves are in a new tent
Paid for by the government
Oakland’s in the same boat
Should they stay? Should they go?
Big pay day’s in San Jose
But for now they’re gonna stay in East Bay

Look out kid
Ya done bin outbid
Owners cry the poor mouth, doin’ it again
Wanna build skyboxes to party with their rich friends
Some day you gotta stop but you don’t know when
Season ticket costs eleven grand, you only got ten . . .

 

 

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