Browse all poems and songs in the 'San Francisco Giants' Category


Realigned Adjustment

by the Village Elliott

For the McCovey Cove Splash Hit at Pac Bell Park

Two years since last adjusting “Splash Sign”,
Brandon Belt smashed Splash Hit 69.
Since Belt hit 68,
Reckon it’s Brandon’s fate
To splash next one when stars realign.

Visitors have splashed 17 more.
Three foes hit three each, no one’s hit four.
Over half Jints’ number
Off Barry Bond’s lumber–
Quite impressive when smashed splash hits soar.

 



RIP: A Sixty-Year Lament

by Robert Hilliard

They’re gone.
Pete, Pee-wee and Jackie
entertaining the
Knothole Gang
by crashing into walls,
hustling infield rollers,
and stealing home with a bang.

They’re gone.
Dolph and Cookie and Leo.
No Lip to the umps
No soda or peanuts or crackerjacks.
No cries from the
twenty-five cent bleacher seats
“Wait till next year!”
No more we’ll be chumps.

And Hoyt ain‘t hoit anymore.

They’re gone.
Van Lingle the Mungo and Sandy the K
and Campy, Newk, Preacher
and Mickey, who dropped the third out,
kicking the game away.

Even after Ralph hurled
the Shot Heard ‘Round the World
we were soothed by the guy in the catbird seat.
Red’s voice helped take away the heat.

There was sweet swinging Duke
and Gil’s four in a game.
Why aren’t they
in baseball’s Hall of Fame?

We can still boo the Giants,
but it just ain’t the same.

Waiting year after year
for a moment delirious,
to root for the trolley boys,
at last, in 1955,
in the Woild Serious.

Finally, some fame,
more games to be won,
big houses to tally.
And the money ain’t lame.
But poof, they were gone,
a pox on O’Malley.

A pseudo-team now in LA
copping a cherished name.
An usurper.
A pretender.
A thief.
For shame! For shame!

It’s gone.
They’re gone.
Rest in Peace, Ebbets Field.
Rest in Peace, Brooklyn Dodgers.

 



Give Credit Where Due

by the Village Elliott

To Red Sox’ Chris Young

The Red Sox beat the Giants in 10.
Final score: 5 to 3, leaky ‘pen.
Play in seventh was key:
First and third, one out, the
Jints ahead, but did not score again.

When Ortiz topped the ball to right side,
Giants need to turn two. Crawford tried.
Young, runner, eluded
The tag, play concluded:
One on, two outs, with Giants, Sox tied.

 



Their Great Sacrifice

by the Village Elliott

For Eddie Grant (b. 5/21/1883, Franklin, MA; d. 10/5/1918, Argonne, France) and Christy Mathewson (b. 8/12/1880, Factoryville, PA; d. 10/7/1925, Saranac Lake, NY)

Eddie Grant led a singular life:
Harvard, Jints, “Over There,” lost his life.
The Big Six enlists, too:
Gassed, stateside Christy’s through.
We remember their “Great Sacrifice”.

Polo Grounds decorated with plaque
To honor Grant, “All Who Didn’t Come Back”.
When Jints moved west, plaque’s lost.
“No Titles” was lost plaque’s cost.
Once replaced, three flags for Orange and Black.

 



Unimaginable . . .

by Celeste Johnson

Word spread. Crowds grew. The Giants won on
“Happy Lincecum Day.” Joy suffuse. Happiness shared
Hopes grew . . . at least on the days when the Slight,
Quickly becoming the Beloved, One took the mound.
Poetic motion, Electrifying Stuff. Baseball was fun again.
And off the field the one rapidly becoming known
Only as “Timmy” was engaging, goofy and entirely unique.
Skater caps and a smile that lit up his entire face
Happy emotion pouring through letting us know
He was marveling at this as much as the Faithful.
He slipped into our hearts and gave us joy . . .

That was then, and this is now.

Staring at the finality (at least for now as the heart
Never stops hoping for Reunion.) But for now
We must accept that the Beloved may not
Grace the Orange and Black and the Gem
At Third and King will lack its brightest little star.
Unimaginable, but reality does not bow to the
Unimaginable simply because We wish it,
Unimaginable, that another color should blur
In front of our eyes as mesmeric motion unfurls.

Unimaginable . . .

Supplication only partially granted
We must move on. There will be others,
There are others now that don the Orange and Black,
To make us smile, to bring us joy even.
And we will love them. But there will be
A difference. Not all difference is bad and this is not
But it will not be the Beloved, the Slight one.
The One who brought hope to the baseballing heart
Of the City by the Bay. Hope that crystallized into
Three glowing rings that we will always cherish.
The Beloved, our brightest little star may not grace
The Orange and Black again, but the love remains
Imprinted upon the heart and we can only hope that
Joy returns to his own heart and the mound once again
A wondrous place. So it is Goodbye and
Somehow “Thank You” are words too small to
Encompass the gift of Time and Memories given,
But they will have to do for now.
And always the love remains strong. Forever Giant.

 

AL East

NL East

Extra Innings

AL Central

NL Central

Poems by Type

AL West

NL West

Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.