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The Oracles of Oracle Park

by Paul Kocak

Who speaks these utterances
These divinations obscure?
Is it legal to ‘steal’ your signs
Making the game less pure?
O, Oracles of Oracle Park
Keep us not in the dark
Except at night games
Enlighten us to gain winged victory
We beseech thee:
Will it be a four-seamer
Or a changeup
A knuckler or a screamer?
See that shift?
Grant us the magic
To hit ‘em where they ain’t
Or to Bondsian lift
The ball to McCovey Cove
O, Oracles of Oracle Park
Be ye seagulls on the Bay
Or Krukow, Kuiper, Miller
Flemming, Lurie, or Say Hey
Foretell, you Sybils, Ringed blessings
For Bochy’s valedictory mark
A parade down Market
One more time
O, Oracles of Oracle Park
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Forever 44

by Celeste Saldivar

For Willie 44,

My Orange-and-Black heart is broken
And yet it is also grateful, knowing
We have been blessed.
Blessed with the presence of
The Gentle Giant for nearly sixty seasons.
Blessed that he called himself a Giant
Proudly. Though he briefly wore different colors
He came home to the Orange and Black.
Born in Mobile, He was a Son of San Francisco.
What he meant to us fans at the windswept ‘Stick
And in later years at the Gem at Third and King
Almost undefinable.
He was hope when we had none.
A touchstone of calm dignity at first, always.
He was gracious to all. To us the Faithful
And to those lucky enough to have known him
He was “what a wonderful man”
“Uncle Willie Mac” and “my pleasure
To have known him” “Gentle Giant,
Sweet man, soft-spoken and humble”
Words from his brothers of the Diamond
Young and old. Voices as one, echoing his kindness.
His dignity and calm gave us pride
Through the glory seasons of the 1960s
And the lean times in his last years.
He was what it means to be a Giant.
Dignity, Calm, Grace, Humility, Strength.
He was all of these words but also a few more:
Joy, he was Joy, that smile always there
In the later years a smile that hid pain
But smiling away, never a complaint.
And Love …
Love for the game he played oh so well
Love for the fans, each one feeling special
Love for the city by the bay that held a place
In his heart.

Generations of Giants (from Bobby Bonds to
Jack Clark to Will Clark to Buster Posey
and local boy Brandon Crawford)
learning what it was to
Be a Giant from the Gentleman himself.
Always so giving, never complaining.
44 forever etched in our hearts and memory
We are heartbroken tonight,
But we are also blessed because
He was a part of our lives for so long.
Ever present at the Gem
On the corner of Third and King.
Our hearts are heavy, but his spirit
Is now light, unbound and running free
He will remain Forever Giant.

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Applause, Please, for the Retirees

by James Finn Garner

As the season ends and the playoffs loom,
Let us pause a sec and make some room
In our doggerel feed for those athletes
Who’re hanging up mitts and jocks and cleats.

The Jints will miss ol’ Hunter Pence
Of flaming beard and glare intense.

After so many seasons, Bartolo Colon
Will finally get to shower alone.

Minnesotans, pray to your higher power
For another guy even close to Mauer.

Now David Wright, Mets’ grand old man,
Will have to watch them choke from the stands.

With the Angels’ collapse, Mike Scioscia
Might do well inspecting for OSHA.

Chase Utley being out of the game
Frees me from trying to rhyme his name.

And with no regrets, let’s bid adieu
And good riddance to Chief Wahoo.

 

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The Catch

By Raphael Badagliacca

there is the moment
when the ball leaves the bat
setting everything in motion

splintering the sky
into a spectacle
of unimagined colors

out of the green out of the white
out of the blue

the unexplained figure in the distance

shattering every notion
of the possible
with the impossible

Painting of Willie Mays’ “The Catch” by wonderful baseball artist Margie Lawrence.  Rafael says on Facebook, “I am proud to say I own this painting of Margie’s. Seeing it the first time, here is the poem I wrote that convinced me I needed it.” It occurred on this date in 1954. Copyright 2014 by Raphael Baddagliacca.

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All-Star Clerihews 4: With a Vengeance

George Springer
Makes a humdinger
Of a Mojito
Garnished with Fritos.

Michael Brantley
Once appeared scantily
As a Chippendale dancer
Though it’s a query he won’t answer.

Blake Treinin
Takes the BART train in
To SF when the A’s don’t play–
A peripatetic citizen of the Bay.

Willson Contreras
Has never seen Paris
Nor does he care to,
Since he cannot “Parlez-vous”.