Reviving the Art of Baseball Doggerel
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
by Joe Pacheco
The outlook was so brilliant for the Brooklyn Nine that day.
The score stood four to three with but one inning left to play.
And when Sturm died on first and Red Rolfe did the same,
A mighty expectation filled the faithful at the game.
They thought if Casey could deliver as he had not yesterday,
The series would be tied with three more games to play.
But Henrich was now batting, with DiMaggio standing by,
And there was three and two on Tommy when Casey let it fly,
And when the moistened sphere broke down upon the plate
Henrich swung and missed it — Strike Three! — the roar was great,
Except that Mickey Owen, All-Star catcher of the year
Had let the ball roll by him with no other player near.
So upon the stricken multitude a sudden panic sat,
The game had not yet ended and DiMaggio was at bat.
Joltin’ Joe let drive a single to the dread dismay of all,
And Charlie “King Kong” Keller tore the cover off the ball,
And when the dust had lifted and they looked to see the score:
New York Yankees five, Brooklyn Dodgers only four!
But Casey wasn’t finished as the Flatbush Faithful found.
The game is never over with Casey on the mound.
A walk and another double put icing on the cake.
Two more runs for seven on Casey’s last mistake.
O nowhere in the Flatlands were there eyes without a tear.
From Coney Isle to Bushwick, they kept crying in their beer.
Fourteen more years they waited for a World Champion to be crowned,
Thanks to Owen’s All-Star catching and Casey on the mound.
.
Posted 5/21/2010