The Phoggy Dew
by H.L. Cole
‘T’was down the Glenn one Easter morn’,
To a city Fair drove I,
Those Pinstriped lines of Phightin’ men,
On the radio heard I,
No pipe did hum nor battle drum,
Did sound it’s dread tattoo,
But Liberty’s Bell o’er the outfield wall,
Rang out o’er the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over Southern Broad,
They hung out the flag of war,
‘T’was better to Phight ‘neath a Quaker sky,
Than at Citi or Navy Yard,
And from the plains of Delaware,
Strong men came hurryin’ to,
While Atlanta’s ‘Tons, with their long range guns,
Sailed out o’er the foggy dew.
‘T’was the Inky bade our wild geese fly,
That we might win a WFC or three,
But their lonely graves lie at Citi’s gates,
Or on the fringe of the Grassy Knoll,
Oh had they died by Ed Wade’s side,
Or phought with R. A. J.,
I’m sure their names we will keep where the legend sleeps,
‘Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.
But the bravest fell as the Liberty bell,
Rang mournfully and clear,
For those who died that Eastertide,
In the spring time of the year,
And the world did gaze with deep amaze,
At those fearless men but few,
Who bore the phight so that freedom’s light,
Might shine through the foggy dew.
Who bore the phight so that freedom’s light,
Might shine through the foggy dew,
Might shine through the foggy dew,
Might shine through the foggy dew.
This song first appeared on the Phillies blog The Good Phight, with a mind-bending number of annotating links. If you’re curious about the references, check it out over there as well.
A Right to Sling the Boos?
by Jim Siergey and Hilary Barta
The Cubs fans were feeling quite chilly
They booed Carlos Marmol so shrilly
. When it’s only a game
. Throwing stones is a shame
They acted like fans out of Philly
2013 NL East Prediction Haiku
By Stuart Shea
BRAVES
Georgia is the world’s
Top pecan supplier. Plus
Andrelton Simmons
MARLINS
Why is a fish tank
So fascinating to watch?
Billion-dollar chum.
METS
No, it’s not a joke!
Cowgill and Valdespin are
In center field now
NATIONALS
Unnatural arm,
Unbelieveable results–
Can Strasburg stay fit?
PHILLIES
The old and infirm
Are the last to know that they
Are old and infirm
Truckin’, Phillies Style
by Wet Luzinski
Truckin’, season tix cash in. Keep truckin’, for the boo-in’ fan
Clearwooder, yeah dat weather’s fine, just keep truckin’ on.
Arrows all point that the Phils won’t get back to the playoffs
Texas, San Fran, Detroit will go back to the playoffs
Your typical team enmeshed in its annual pipe dream
Win it all now and to hell with tomorrow’s rings.
Atlanta’s got the Upton bros; the Nats are full of upstart woes;
New York’s got D’Arnaud for years; but that debt wont let them be, oh no.
Most of the fans that you meet on this site use advanced stats,
Most of the time they’re sittin’ and typin’ at home
One of these days they’ll find the numbers tell true lies
And they’re better off watchin’ the game with their two eyes.
Truckin’, for the boo-in’ fan. The ones that bought a Sunday plan
Sometimes they ain’t worth a dump, when Lannan’s on the bump
Sometimes I listen to Dubya-Eye-Pee;
It gets me so mad I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me, what a long, five years it’s been.
What in the world ever happened to Roy H?
He lost his heater, you know he isn’t the same
Chooch’s performance enhancin’ was so lame
All we can do now is wait for the 51st game.
Truckin’, down to Clearwooder, been thinkin’, got to get younger
Takes time, you pick a first-round stud, and just keep truckin’ on.
Sittin’ and starin’ out at the feed of my Twitt stream
Gelb got a tip that RAJ gotta deal again
I’d like a young guy who’s got a shred of talent
But if there’s a true vet, I guess he’s gonna come in.
Defense, down the outfield lines, moves slow, like a bowlin’ pin
E-5, gets to wearin’ thin. You just won’t wanna see, oh no.
He’s sick of losin’ again and he’d like to go tradin’;
Gets tired of tradin’ and he wants to develop the farm.
I guess they can’t fire Amaro for tryin’
He’s got some Plans B, and I guess they’re all pretty sound.
Sometimes I listen to Dubya-Eye-Pee;
Other times, Mike Missannell-eeee;
Lately it occurs to me, what a long, five years it’s been.
Truckin’, I’m a rollin’ South. whoa whoa baby, to where the Phils’ fountain
De Leon’s, gotta patch old bones, and get back truckin’ on.
March Baseball
by Stephen Jones
There is nothing to speak of, so far
Except, maybe, mega-contracts, buying the World Series
and demonic trades, and key pre-season injuries
The Yankees are back with battered fixations
The Marlins are simply trade-and-bait
The Nationals are openly trepadacious
The Phillies are, well, on the clock
San Francisco, so far, is blowing smoke
Los Angeles is spending its bank
. . . and the list goes on
Summertime passion is now full-time
obsession and has little to do with “the game”
