Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
Sweet “like acid rain”
Lou erupts no more. Old Guard
Retreats from dugout.
Bobby “WTF?”
Cox pissing and moaning fades
Into Georgia dusk.
The Saga of Joe Torre:
Sucked in St. Lou and
Shea. Then, in fall, to the Bronx,
And now he’s a champ??
Counting: 15 out of 16 years past
to Yankee playoff possibility:
Pirates? Padres? The Indians, e.g.?
(the list of small- & medium-market
teams is as long as owners’ ledgers)
a dis-service to their fans:
So don’t argue:
That your team owners may be committed
to money to profit not to bases counted
or games won: to profit sharing:
& so much for quality & parity
Some teams are designed to contend
others merely to make money
By Stuart Shea and James Finn Garner
Though dead four decades, ol’ Russ Hodges
Still figures in Jints’ reportage.
He and his “bye-bye baby” call
Haven’t faded from baseball at all.
When Pablo, Burrell, or Uribe
Leaves the yard for a splash in the Bay
Kuiper yells “HE HITS IT OUTTA HERE”
And each Giant fan lets out a cheer.
At the end of all innings with dongs,
They play the “Bye-Bye Baby” song.
And a piece of Russ Hodges lives on,
Even though Bobby Thomson’s now gone.
Posted 9/21/10
An ode to shuttered baseball parks. For info on Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium, please check the comments thread below.
And here’s to you, Boston’s Fenway Park,
Jesus loves you more than you will know — wo, wo, wo.
God bless you please, windy Wrigley Field,
Heaven holds a place for those who pray.
Hey, you’re all that remain.
We’d like to know a little bit about old stadia,
We’d like to help you keep some memories.
Look around you, all you see are old angelic eyes.
Strolling hallowed grounds of New York’s Polo Grounds.
And here’s to you, Jackie Robinson,
Ebbets Field saw fans who open grew — woo, woo, woo.
God bless you please, Jackie Robinson,
Brooklyn holds a place for those who played
Hey, hey, hey … hey, hey, hey.
Now so many places live where no one ever goes:
Shea, the Vet, Three Rivers and Candlestick.
It’s no shock Olympic Stadium’s no longer used.
Bigger surprise the House Ruth Built is gone now.
Coo, coo, ca-choo, all old stadia
We remember more than you will know — wo, wo, wo.
God bless you please, Houston Astrodome,
We remember Bad News Bears’ clutch play
Hey, hey, hey … hey, hey, hey.
Sitting in the bleachers on a Sunday afternoon,
Going to a big late-season day game.
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you’ve got to choose
Ev’ry way you look at it, you lose.
Where have you gone N. C. Double A
A nation turns its hungry eyes to you — woo, woo, woo.
What’s that you say, President Myles Brand?
Rosenblatt has left and gone away!
Hey, hey, hey … hey, hey, hey.
Posted 9/7/10
by Anonymous
He waited
In the whiteness of the afternoon sun;
Black man on green ground.
He waited
In the silence of the tongue
Black man on green ground.
He waited
In the path of his words
White broke his bones;
Black man on green ground.
He waited
As few men have ever
waited
And endured
Before a multitude
as no man before,
O,
To have conquered the white sun,
blinding
To have sailed the sun and ridden
its joy
in tears
And
in laughter.
To have ridden the white sun,
blinding
And to be
struck
struck
struck
by the rising
Of
Your
Own
Black
Sun.
Your crown was white;
…and waited.
.
Found on the Baseball Almanac site.
Posted 7/31/10