Browse all poems and songs in the 'St. Louis Cardinals' Category

Dedicated to Dad

by the Village Elliott

For sons Edinson, Bobo and Mort

Volquez started Royals’ World Series play
After learning Dad just passed away.
Just like Cards’ Cooper knew,
And Bengals’ Bobo, too,
Back in forties; each team won that day.


The Royals’ Edinson Volquez threw the first pitch of the 2015 Series yesterday, having learned on the way to the park that his father had died earlier that day. He pitched six innings with no decision, though his team won in the 14th.

In the 1940 World Series, Detroit Tiger Bobo Newsom shut out the Reds in Game 1 with his father in attendance. After the game, his father died. He dedicated his victorious Game Five start to his dad. Asked to also win Game Seven for his Old Man, he replied, “I think I’ll win this one for Old Bobo,” but lost 2-1.

Three years later, the Cardinals’ Mort Cooper learned his father died a few hours before his Game Two start against the Yankees. Pitching to his brother Walker, he won the Cards’ only game in the 1943 World Series.


What a Season — And It Ain’t Over Yet

by James Finn Garner

So now, my friends, it has come to this,
The World Series of 2015
The kids ablaze on the New York Amazin’s
Versus the Big Blue Royal Machine.

Let’s consider all that’s gone before
As we bid the warm weather goodbye
Some teams did roll as had been foretold
While others came through with surprise.

The new Cubbie kids swung some mean bats
The Blue Jays refused to show fear
Motown fell dead, now needs a retread
While the Giants await an even year.

The Dodgers in their close-ups again blinked
Staid St. Louis became hot and unglued
The Nationals sputtered, then throttled each other
The Lone Star State watched a marvelous feud

So when someone tells you baseball is boring,
Whether online, at work, in a bar,
Don’t chuckle or sigh. Look them straight in the eye
And say, “Baseball’s not boring — you are.”


Victory Lapped Up

by Hilary Barta

It’s brutal, New York in a sweep
Our beautiful dreams in a heap
St. Louis, detested,
Chicago had bested
But swept by the Mets? What the bleep!


Each step that the Cubbies had made
Champagne in the clubhouse was sprayed
But now all the fun
Brut showers are done
For losing they hold no parade.


The unknowns on the Cubs have made gains
But have shown that some work still remains
On youth the team’s based
And a truth must be faced:
With growing there always comes pains.


Cubs Deal the Cards

by Hilary Barta

The Cubs with their bats kept attacking
And crack starter Lackey proved lacking
Chicago relievers
Were overachievers
And the St. Louis losers sent packing.


Congratulations, Cubs, from a Cardinals Lifer

by the Village Elliott

First League Division Series is done,
Best of five: Cubs won three, my Cards one.
Now win it all, Cubbies,
For the zaydes and bubbies
Not yet born last World Series you won.

Like to think I’m a fair-minded guy,
Whose team’s won before, so need not cry.
Now that “Future” is here,
Maybe “This Is Next Year!”
When the Cubs win it all for McFly.


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Copyright 2007 Bardball.