Browse all poems and songs in the 'Stu Shea' Category


Two for Ron Santo and the Hall of Fame

By Stuart Shea

The Hall of Fame’s honor and riches
Ron Santo deserved without pitches.
.      But denied for too long
.      Was the man’s well-earned song
By an old bunch of sons of bitches.

.

by Cary Donham

Ron’s a hero to folks diabetic
‘Cause on the field he was super-kinetic
.      Whether diving for balls
.      Or arguing calls
Or clicking his heels so aesthetic



Milwaukee Fans, With Heads High

By Stuart Shea

It’s been a good year,
And we still have beer.
Prince may be gone,
But our buzz is still on.



The New Busch Stadium is NOT a Rodent Trap!

By Stuart Shea

How could that squirrel
Send Roy Oswalt squirmin’?
Well, Cardinals eat seeds and
don’t hunt vermin.



Baseball Poem, One Pence

By Stuart Shea

He may look like Anthony Michael Hall,
But Hunter Pence can do it all.
Puts it over the right field wall
With the ugliest swing you ever …  sall.



Season’s Last Day Oakland Sportswriter Blues

By Stuart Shea

The Cardinals are blanking the Astros again,
And they’ll make the playoffs if the Braves can’t win.
I wish I was there for this wild-card craze,
But I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

Hey! Tampa came back from a 7-0 hole,
Dan Johnson just tied it–right off the foul pole!
I’d love to be seeing the Yankees and Rays,
But I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

Did Baltimore really just walk off the Sox?
And Papelbon pull one more of his rocks?
So Tampa and St. Lou are in. I’m amazed
That I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

It’s cold in this pressbox at Safeco Field,
And watching a meaningless game is the yield.
The action is elsewhere, and it’s one of those days.
I’m stuck in Seattle covering the A’s.

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Copyright 2007 Bardball.