by Stephen Jones
The San Francisco Giants seem like
they’re on a mission. Rawhide glove
& bat – they are owning a ball park tonight,
no matter what Detroit brings.
Spence and Cain and It Looks Like Rain
by James Finn Garner
Hunter Pence showed how it’s done
Hitting three times instead of one
Earning a futile “Whazz-muh–?”
From an addled Peter Kozma.
And from the mound, young Matt Cain
Gave the Cards a Giant pain.
The contest called by Buster Posey
Came up smelling like a rosey.
So it’s the Coasts, both West and Third.
No more miracles for the Birds.
Plus, TV watchers praise their luck:
Coitus interruptus for McCarver and Buck.
The Gas That Makes the Giants Go
by Michael X. Ferraro
These words fill pitchers’ hearts with woe:
“Now batting, Marco Scutaro.”
Handles all fastballs, high and low.
Small guy, big wheelhouse — Scutaro.
Way less hype than Robby Cano,
but this October stole the show.
The gas that makes the Giants go,
He’s like Cody Ross 2.0.
Take him out with a savage blow?
You’ll pay the price — not Scutaro.
Michael X. Ferraro is the author of Tased & Amused: The Shocking Poetic Recap of the 2010 Baseball Season, available on Amazon.
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and That Awesome Mr. Beck
by Jim Healey
When the starter starts to struggle
So you think he might be hexed
Just replace him with the trio
That makes batters nervous wrecks
That set of fearsome firemen
Will have those hitters vexed
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
When we lead by just a run
And the game’s been neck and neck
We can call on those three stoppers
Those three aces in our deck
Those Giant mow-em-downers
Loved a bushel and a peck
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
If our starters never finish
We might say, “Oh, what the heck.”
Who cares who gets the victory
When all four have thrown that spec?
We’ll rejoice in having hurlers
Whose arms are so high tech
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Jackson and
That awesome Mr. Beck
Vogelsong for the Asking
By Stu Shea
The ‘Jints needed some starting arm to go long
So Bruce Bochy sang out a sweet Vogelsong.
To go east while trailing 2-0 would be wrong,
So S.F. was glad to have Ryan Vogelsong.
Pence gives talks, Wilson’s beard’s like King Kong,
But Monday the star was one R. Vogelsong.
Working the fastball in/out like ping-pong,
Control and command were the sweet Vogelsong.
He hit and he pitched and he rang SL’s gong,
The 35-year-old ex-Buc R. Vogelsong.
If San Fran continues to play hard and strong,
They’ll owe it so much to that old Vogelsong.
Short of running down Castro in naught but a thong,
He did it all Monday, did R. Vogelsong.