An Ode to Bright House Field (With No Mention of the Hooters Ball Girls)
by Joyce Heiser
We could’ve gone to SeaWorld
The ocean sounds like fun
Instead we sit in the hot heat sun
And watch a game of chance
Is it a game or more a test?
Road-tired vets that have to play
Minted fresh kids who demand their say
Now, then, a years-old dance
It’s a fine, fine line they walk
For us a lazy day
A beer, a dog, just to get away
It takes work to make romance
Cardinals: Don’t Hate Us Cuz We Win
by Alan P. Rudy
A Cubs fan laments of Cardinal success,
In the face of Philly’s utter Yankee-ness,
And Arizona’s owner’s militant anti-immigrant mess,
Of Milwaukee’s ties to the Commish’s anti-player caress…
Fans of cursed fate are sad to witness.
The New Busch Stadium is NOT a Rodent Trap!
By Stuart Shea
How could that squirrel
Send Roy Oswalt squirmin’?
Well, Cardinals eat seeds and
don’t hunt vermin.
Baseball Poem, One Pence
By Stuart Shea
He may look like Anthony Michael Hall,
But Hunter Pence can do it all.
Puts it over the right field wall
With the ugliest swing you ever … sall.
Post-Season Prediction Doggerel
by James Finn Garner
All the network media dorks
Sing the praises of New York
They hate visiting places strange
Like Motown and the Texas Range
They’d rather crawl through Gotham sewers
Than watch the Snakes or Rays or Brewers.
They’re happy as a dog with bone
To stay in th’ Eastern Time Zone.
But Yankees pitching ain’t worth a lick.
The Phillies are my pick, in six.
