by James Finn Garner
Hey, orange Marlins yahoo,
What gives you the right to
Wear something else than powder blue
Sitting where the world sees you?
You need to blend in with the crowd,
Not sit in garments screaming loud.
So you have a stub — think you can
Crimp our genius marketing plan?
To your Fish you think you’re loyal?
Well, here everyone cheers the Royals.
Your defiance makes the brass see red!
This is America, pal, and don’t forget!
By Stuart Shea
10 Teams Continue,
20 Teams Done.
Stories we have followed
Now consigned to history–
Into the pages of a book
That has been replaced by a web site.
Jose Abreu’s rookie season is over.
Corey Kluber’s ass-kicking year is over.
Phillip Hughes’ breakout is over.
Charlie Blackmon’s beard is over.
Kirk Gibson is VERY over.
But the damage done by Kevin Towers’ trades is just beginning.
Altuve’s wonderful year is over.
The Rangers’ long march of injuries is over…
But the Wash Era is also over.
Everth Cabrera’s honeymoon is over.
Marcus Stroman’s debut is over.
The painful Jay Bruce year is over.
Brock Holt Mania! is over.
Another King Felix masterwork is over.
Giancarlo’s monster season is over.
Jonathan Lucroy’s emergence is over.
The Braves’ painful swan dive is over.
Mesoraco’s breakout is over.
The struggles of Springer are over.
The weird Joe Mauer year is over.
Justin Smoak’s chance is over.
Another frustrating Rockies season is over.
The Chase Headley Padres are over.
The Papelbon crap is over,
But the Phillies’ country club continues.
The Frank Wren Era is over.
Colby Rasmus in Toronto is REALLY over.
Desmond Jennings’ honeymoon is over.
Heath Bell seems over.
The Cubs on WGN are over.
Bobby Abreu is over.
Josh Willingham is over.
Carlos Beltran sure looks over.
Can Kevin Gregg please be over?
Jason Giambi is finally over, right?
The 2013 World Champs are really over.
Is Ron Roenicke’s time over?
The Mets’ sexual harassment suit is NOT over.
Wrigley Field as we knew it is over.
Paul Konerko is over.
Derek Jeter is over.
20 Teams are over.
by Michael X. Ferraro
Giancarlo, when I approached,
Via soft-serve toss of a coach
I foolishly said, “Let’s be friends!”
But instead I now have the bends.
As I rocket o’er Target Field,
McCutcheon gasps and Gordon squealed.
My path now is parabolic
Forget ‘roids– are you bionic?
Mr. Stanton, I hold no grudge.
I’m a baseball, not a judge.
The fans swoon like they’ve seen Kirby
as I leave this Home Run Derby.
by Stuart Shea
Upton up and down?
Uggla ugly or upward?
Freddie a Free Man?
Now that everyone
Has left the stadium, the
Rebuild can begin.
A farewell to arms—
No Harvey, no Mejia?
And one fat Colon.
Welcome, Matt Williams!
Now that you’re here, it’s assumed
You’ll win right away.
Old men, broken down,
Troll the green fields of the town,
Searching for what’s gone.
by Stephen Jones
At eighteen he committed himself
to baseball . . . for fifty years.
Detroit should be grateful.
He didn’t fail stadium fans –
their team’s porous bats did
like unidentified blips
on baseball’s radar screen.
Mr. Leyland deserved better.