by Hugh Briss
Must be throwing fits. He’s
The top vote-getter among NL jocks,
Yet plays for a bottom-feeder like the Rox.
Walks around touching
Each and every light switch
Cuz his OCD is just a bitch.
That’s a big favor to owe.
You’ll have to deliver, by gawd,
Before they uncover Chicago’s election fraud.
Needs a course in geography.
Instead of Minnesota,
He booked a flight to North Dakota.
Smooth move, eh?
Spend the week away from Houston,
Maybe get some fishing done.
by Tom Martin (@brew_haiku)
Game 90. #Phillies 3 #Brewers 2
It’s a weird feeling
Losing more games than winning
Small shades of last year…
Game 91. #Phillies 7 #Brewers 5 (in 4th inning)
Overbay Grand Slam
Seems like a long time ago
Pitching is shaky.
Game 91. #Phillies 9 #Brewers 5 (in 5th inning)
Good to see you in the game
Please, no more runs though!
Game 92. #Phillies 4 #Brewers 1
Let’s see, we have lost
4 straight and 8 out of 9
Time for slide to end.
Game 93. #Phillies 9 #Brewers 1
That sinking feeling
Both game and Division leads
Tom Martin writes haiku for every single Brewer game. Follow him on Twitter @brew_haiku.
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 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.
by Michael X. Ferraro
When Dominic Brown uncoils like a snake
of his intent there can be little doubt.
In May he took ZERO free passes,
but walloped a dozen balls out.
So the Philly fans rise as one
when the lanky kid takes a cut.
It’s only a .500 year so far,
and yet, and but, and but . . .