Browse all poems and songs in the 'Atlanta Braves' Category


By Stuart Shea

Farewell, Buehrle,
Never surly,
Perfect game and Series ring.
Sox fans wish you everything.

Huddy, boy, you’ll be missed,
South and north, east and wist.
Auburn, Atlanta, by the Bay,
222 wins ain’t hay.

Jeremy Affeldt said goodbye,
Left the field and maybe cried.
Made some cash, answered the bell,
Made himself some friends as well.

Aramis Ramirez
Hopes for a Seriez.
He’s played a lot of ball,
But not much in the fall.

A.J. Burnett wants the same:
Play more than one October game.
And yes, he really cares
To play a role for the Corsairs.

And who else out there will call it quits
When the uni or job no longer fits?
Or the outright release came?
Who’s played his last game?

Barry Zito? Dan Haren?
A-Rod, Colon, or Beltran?
Latroy Hawkins, Betancourt,
Or some other old man?


One Fine Day

by the Village Elliott

For Hank Gowdy

Gee Golly, Boy Howdy,
I just met Hank Gowdy,
Great War hero and World Series star,
Was a Miracle Brave,
Till he joined in first wave,
First pro swap unis, march off to war.
In left field today sit,
With my dad and my mitt,
Can’t imagine a day could be finer,
Till I heard the bat crack,
Heard crowd roar, “Back . . . back . . . back . . .”
I caught home run hit by Ralph Kiner.

I was barely a teen,
Caught betwixt and between,
But grew up to accumulate stuff.
Still my Great Legacy:
Photo: Hank, Bro and me,
One fine day below old Coogan’s Bluff.


The VE explains:  “In July, Dick Volk showed me a photo of himself as a young teenager. It was taken at the Polo Grounds in 1948, and included his older brother, posing with 53-year-old New York Giants coach Hank Gowdy. It was another era. In fact, it is exactly 100 years since Hank led the Boston Braves upset sweep of Connie Mack’s ‘White Elephants’, three years before he became the first Major Leaguer to enlist for WWI. My friend met Hank three years after Hank mustered out a second time, having re-upped as an Army physical education instructor for the duration.”

Dog Days’ Road Trips

by the Village Elliott

Now the dog days of summer are here,
When the sun’s heat is hottest all year.
Risin’ on horizon,
Dog Star near Orion
Adds its own heat as it hovers near.

Now the dog days of summer are here,
Jints’ two hottest road trips this year,
Texas, then Chicago,
Post-Atlanta, they go;
Home, then St. Louis, Pittsburgh appear.

During Dog Days it’s brutally clear,
These two trips can define Giants’ year;
If they wish to repeat,
Have to deal with the heat
To end month in first place, at least near.

Just as Truman’s election made clear,
Dog Days’ trips can define one’s whole year.
Jints, like Harry, repeat
‘Cause they can stand the heat,
And like champions will persevere.


Short Ode to Futility

By Bobby Wall

Woe be to the nation’s fourth largest town
Houstonians always wore frown
Same legacy to St Louis’ Browns
Took Lord Baltimore’s town to gain a crown

1870 started the Braves in Beantown
Save for a ’14 miracle, they always went down
Never a final game winner strode the mound
Took til Atlanta for a winner to be found


National League East 2015 Spring Training Haiku

By Stuart Shea

“The Braves will be good”???
…what I like about the South
Is its humility

Oh, Giancarlo,
Is 300 mil enough
To stand Loria?

It was a bright day
When the Wheel fell off the cart
Leaving three good ones

Men with few assets
Should not bargain as if they
Can afford to wait

The young man acts young;
His elders, who know better,
Lecture and complain


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Copyright 2007 Bardball.