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Vaya Con Dios, Bazardo

by James Finn Garner

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Batters with hits your field did bombard-o,
Yorman, my man, hits the boulevard-o,
Cut by the Phils with flip disregard-o.

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Though scratched from the Tigers’ and Phillies’ scorecard-o,
I hope you retain your own self-regard-o
And don’t mope and think you’re somehow ill-starred-o,
Or drown your sorrows in amontillado,
Or vanish from sight, incommunicado.

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
While no setback leaves a person unscarred-o,
Don’t think yourself with failure much tarred-o,
Or believe that old “washed up” canard-o,
Because at least to the baseball ‘ficionado,
You gave us the chance to holler

“BAZARDO!”

For an earlier poem about Yorman Bazardo, click here.

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Posted 4/30/09

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Phillies Postgame

By Stuart Shea

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There will be no wrapup.
There will be no highlights.

There will be no lamplights or postgame beers;
After 39 years
The Phillies have laryngitis.

Does God give us life to spite us?

Or is it stupid to hold to our fear
Of eternal nothingness?

If even a voice like Harry’s can be silenced in the great hall of life and death,
Then what’s the use of taking another breath?

In memory of Harry Kalas (1936-2009)

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Posted 4/14/09.

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The Incomparable Chase Utley

by David Margolis

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There is a young Phils fan from Nutley
Who roots for his team, and not subtly:
“I’ve a shrine in my home
And I’d write them a poem
But there’s nothing the rhymes with Chase Utley.”

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Posted 4/10/09

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National League East 2009 Haiku Forecasts

by Stuart Shea

PHILLIES
Some defending champs
Next spring find their magic dust
Doesn’t work so well.

METS
Many suns have set
Since Pedro Martinez could
Throw over 90.

MARLINS
Buy season tickets!
We’ll throw in a free car wash
By Marlins players.

BRAVES
No Smoltz, No Maddux
Only Glavine left to fly
Their once-proud banner.

NATIONALS
Jim Bowden’s mission:
To leave behind a steaming pile
On Anacostia’s banks.

Posted 3/18/09

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The Suspension of ’08: Games 5A and 5B

by Todd Herges

The game was huge, as all involved know well.
It started with pomp, tradition and a pitch,
Then rain began, in sheets grew to a swell.

The field got wet, began to go to hell.
Tarp and sand were tried, but mattered not which.
The game was huge, as all involved know well.

A crew of groundsmen have a tale to tell.
If not for them would be no final catch.
The rain kept up, in sheets grew to a swell.

Lighting the swamp, a giant neon bell.
All prayed for sun lest park become a ditch.
The game was huge, as all involved know well.

The man on top, Commish, he made the call.
(This being-in-charge can really be a bitch.)
The rain did end, and Phils could victory smell.

Each Ray’s iPod echoed the same dark knell.
If but could face a Williams, maybe Mitch!
The game was huge, as all involved know well.
The rain asterisked rules, grew to a swell.

Posted 11/6/08