By Ed Charles
Author of my talents, only You have I praised,
To Thee only shall my hands be raised.
For when I’m burdened with the weight of my team,
To my rescue You come, it will always seem.
For outstanding is my play on any given day
When You intervene and help lead the way.
Grateful to You I’ll always be
For exploiting my talents for the world to see.
For out there on the diamond before thousands of fans,
We players perform the best we can.
Perform we must both day and night,
Seeking victory with all our might.
Seeking a place with other sports greats
In the Hall of Fame where ability rates.
Where Ruth, Cobb, Robinson and the rest
Stand proudly enshrined as baseball’s best.
Excerpted from ‘An Athlete’s Prayer,’ c. 1966, by Ed Charles, major league third baseman (Kansas City Athletics, New York Mets) from 1961-69
by Stephen Jones
With signature splitters
He retired Met hitters.
He pitched a 4-0 shutout,
Leaving some with little doubt.
Gunslinger David Cone did speak:
“His pitching control is truly elite.”
And Ron Darling, former Met, did chime:
“He just may be once-in-a-lifetime.”
And if his splitter wasn’t enough,
Tanaka showed other nasty stuff -
Fast ball, change up, slider, curve -
And at the plate had some nerve,
Hitting in the ninth inning a single.
It gave Girardi a fit, others a giggle,
And in the end seemed perfect garnish
For his on-the-mound dominance.
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 Joshua Roth
Terry Collins, manager of scorn,
was praying for Sandy to sign Michael Bourn.
Sandy got no money
from Uncle Fred,
Now, the 2013 season
is all but dead.
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.