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Dick Allen and the Ebonistics, “Echoes of November”

Dick Allen, who played for 15 years with the Phillies (Rookie of the Year, 1964) and White Sox (MVP, 1972), was also a fine soul singer. This song was released in 1968 on the Groovey Grooves label. His group once performed at halftime during a 76ers game. From Wikipedia, here’s a review of the performance from the Philadelphia Inquirer:

“Here came Rich Allen. Flowered shirt. Tie six-inches (152 mm) wide. Hiphugger bell-bottomed pants. A microphone in his hands. Rich Allen the most booed man in Philadelphia from April to October, when Eagles coach Joe Kuharich takes over, walked out in front of 9,557 people at the Spectrum last night to sing with his group, The Ebonistics, and a most predictable thing happened. He was booed. Two songs later though, a most unpredictable thing happened. They cheered Rich Allen. They cheered him as warmly as they have ever cheered him for a game winning home run.”

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Ode to Oddibe

by Jim Siergey

A wildcat did prowl
The wind began to howl
and Oddibe McDowell
belongs in a Bob Dylan song.
.

Jim Siergey is the author and illustrator of the Cubs alternate history If They Did It. You can see more of his illustration work at his website here.

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The Conflicts of Dick Allen (A Villanelle)

by Patrick Dubuque

We’re taught the game is played a certain way;
That men should bunt and strike out reverently
There really isn’t much else left to say.

In Little Rock, they welcomed him with spray
A sullen, stinging, whitewashed reverie.
We’re taught the game is played a certain way.

When one man swung his bat and struck him, they
Bestowed on him the culpability.
There really isn’t much else left to say.

He scratched October Second in the clay
Where local fans had once flung batteries
We’re taught the game, to play a certain way

And despite his prodigious, powerful display
Battling loneliness, rage, misery
There really isn’t much else left to say.

And so Dick Allen scowled as he played.
And so old men wrote their history.
We’re taught the game is played a certain way.
There really isn’t much else left to say.

Patrick Dubuque is the head honcho at the blog The Playful Utopia, which you all should start reading.

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The Last of Lastings Milledge

by James Finn Garner

Consider the case of Lastings Milledge,
Career on the wane and prospects pillaged.
So many chances, not one of them clicked.
Now playing Triple A out in the sticks.
How cruelly ironic to have that first name,
Success was so fleeting throughout his game.
Drafted and signed with ado and aplomb,
but the years and the game rolled crushingly on.
To what sort of player can you really relate:
The superstars, scrubs — or should-have-been-greats?