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Whitey Herzog

by James Finn Garner

We salute a skipper named Whitey
Who plugged in Vince and Willie and Ozzie
He saw defense and speed
Were St. Louis’ need
‘Twas Whiteyball made Whitey quite mighty.

“I came here in last place and I leave here in last place. I left them right where I started.” RIP to the White Rat.

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A Baseball Eulogy: Total Eclipse of the Game

By Dr. Rajesh C. Oza

(In appreciation of the April 8, 2024 solar eclipse and with apologies to Bonnie Tyler)

Baseball was my reliable Chicago sun:
Warm summer days, filled with run after run.

Basketball was my Windy City moon:
Cool winter nights, swishing nets into June.

My heart had space for Doubleday and Naismith’s games;
My heroes in Cooperstown and Springfield’s Halls of Fame.

But my steadfast true love
Began with bat, ball, and glove.

Once upon a time, Whitman waxed serious,
“The game of ball is glorious.”
The poet couldn’t imagine “base” falling apart.
There’s nothing I would lament, for
Nothing could eclipse my game of ball.

Then a madness occurred;
Began with Magic and Bird.

Ernie Banks’ around-the-bases smile,
Was displaced by MJ’s high-flying guile.

Today’s kids are in far too much of a hurry,
Thrilling to threes by sweet Steph Curry.

They know not the wonder of a triple play,
As rare as the moon getting in the sun’s way.

Once upon a time, there was light in our life,
But now there’s only love in the dark.
Is there nothing that can save us from
A total eclipse of the game?

 

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Eephus

by Brad Roudebush

I have difficulty explaining concisely how I throw the ball.
Its high arc dropping into an imaginary box, as if suspended by cable.
And so I perfect my elevator pitch.

After a 40 year absence, the eephus was resurrected by Rip Sewell for the Pirates in 1941.

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Brad Roudebush’s favorite baseball movie is “Mr. 3000” because when Bernie Mac pulls the hidden ball trick, it accurately portrays that the pitcher may not be standing on the mound.