By Stuart Shea
Congratulations to the Bucs,
Too many years a team that sucks.
McCutch the likely MVP,
Good pitching and defense are key.
They’ll have a chance for bigger fame,
If they keep Clint Hurdle out of the game.
The Agony of the Agate
by Michael X. Ferraro
Baseball in August creates many jobs
for travel agents and typesetting slobs.
Rehab assignments, Triple A spot starts,
Pennant aspirants shopping for spare parts.
Roster gods move in mysterious ways–
David DeJesus, three teams in five days?
Colin Cowgill’s grin, Billy Buckner’s frown.
Holy Toledo, Phil Coke’s been sent down!
Some guys can’t clear waivers; others released,
Plus one salary dump in the NL East.
(The Mets helped Pittsburgh in a deal most absurd—
Just tossed them a Buck and flipped them a Byrd.)
Eduardo Sanchez, gone from the big club.
But Ma Arrieta, Jake’s now a Cub!
Brad Boxberger sighs, packs for the bushes.
John Axford heads where the playoff push is.
Contenders reload, pretenders cut bait.
Hey Tuffy Goseswisch, Reno’s your fate.
Jose Constanza the Braves did recall,
with hopes that he’ll help them deep into Fall.
Philly’s less Savery—no Joe in the bigs;
Report sir, at once, to the Iron Pigs.
Ross Wolf’s been optioned to Round Rock Express,
while the Dodgers scooped up Edinson Volquez.
One-line transactions, a queer kind of fame.
Vic Black, you’ve become “Player To Be Named.”
Xavier Avery’s now a Rainier,
maybe Seattle, he’ll see you next year?
Michael X. Ferraro is a writer/producer/lyricist who scans the fine print daily to make sure he hasn’t been outrighted to Lehigh Valley.
Halfway-Point Haiku
by D. Bruce Brown
Is Haiku foolish?
For the national pastime?
Heavens, I hope not.
NL West
Arizona
Nice guys finish last
Crabby managers do win
They still need pitching
Los Angeles
Is money the key?
It can bring in the big names
No, it’s the scouting
Colorado
Thin air skews his stats.
Is Todd a Hall of Famer?
No, probably not
San Francisco
We won it all twice…
With an absence of offense
Only even years
San Diego
A beautiful park
The only Hall of Famer
Is up in the booth
NL East
Atlanta
Fourteen in a row
Is not so impossible
It might start this year
Washington
First picks starting games
Davey says this is his last
A doormat no more
Philadelphia
A team on the rise
They are not now any more
We all miss Harry
New York
A small pantheon
But will be growing soon now
Matt Harvey’s a star
Miami
Was ever team
More worthy than its owner
To be in the Bigs?
NL Central
St. Louis
The league’s best record
They have birds on their jerseys
We all will miss Stan
Pittsburgh
A great tradition
Lives on in the memory of fans
Maybe the year’s here!
Cincinnati
Phillips is wondrous
The rest are outstanding too
It’s Dusty’s last year
Chicago
The city’s windy
Is anything more constant
Than fans’ apathy?
Milwaukee
Segura is great
John Axford is clean shaven
Nicest fans ever
D. Bruce Brown has posted daily trivia questions for Horsehide Trivia since 1997. He is also the president of the Bob Davids chapter of SABR.
Four Ways of Looking at an All-Star
(With apologies to Wallace Stevens)
By Stuart Shea
Would the Cubs be good
Without Travis Wood?
(What the hell are you talking about?
They’re still 14 games out.)
J.J. Hardy
Is often tardy,
Which you can plainly see
From his OBP of .293.
Perhaps it is silly
To cite Jason Grilli
As a reason for the Bucs’ success.
But without him, it’d be a mess.
The Pods will have a scare-a
If Everth Cabrera
Is suspended as rumored–
Bud will be Black-humored.
A Ballad of Baseball Burdens
by Franklin Pierce Adams
The burden of hard hitting. Slug away
. Like Honus Wagner or like Tyrus Cobb.
Else fandom shouteth: “Who said you could play?
. Back to the jasper league, you minor slob!”
. Swat, hit, connect, line out, get on the job.
Else you shall feel the brunt of fandom’s ire
. Biff, bang it, clout it, hit it on the knob—
This is the end of every fan’s desire.
The burden of good pitching. Curved or straight.
. Or in or out, or haply up or down,
To puzzle him that standeth by the plate,
. To lessen, so to speak, his bat-renoun:
. Like Christy Mathewson or Miner Brown,
So pitch that every man can but admire
. And offer you the freedom of the town—
This is the end of every fan’s desire.
The burden of loud cheering. O the sounds!
. The tumult and the shouting from the throats
Of forty thousand at the Polo Grounds
. Sitting, ay, standing sans their hats and coats.
. A mighty cheer that possibly denotes
That Cub or Pirate fat is in the fire;
. Or, as H. James would say, We’ve got their goats—
This is the end of every fan’s desire.
The burden of a pennant. O the hope,
. The tenuous hope, the hope that’s half a fear,
The lengthy season and the boundless dope,
. And the bromidic; “Wait until next year.”
. O dread disgrace of trailing in the rear,
O Piece of Bunting, flying high and higher
. That next October it shall flutter here:
This is the end of every fan’s desire.
ENVOY
Ah, Fans, let not the Quarry but the Chase
. Be that to which most fondly we aspire!
For us not Stake, but Game; not Goal, but Race—
. THIS is the end of every fan’s desire.
Franklin Pierce Adams was a columnist and prolific doggerelist, best known for “Baseball’s Sad Lexicon (Tinker to Evers to Chance)”. This poem is from his book In Other Words (1912).