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The Game of the Name

by Stu Shea

I.
Gallardo and Bazardo and Pichardo and DiNardo.
Baseball names are the funniest words,
Spoken loudly in public context.
You never know what’s next—
The announcer may yell, “Uggla, deep to left!”
Which only makes sense if you know the game.
What, indeed, is in a name?
Someone named “Pujols” can feel no shame…
In fact, he’s a hero instead of a zero.

II.
Prince Fielder can’t field,
And Lackey won’t yield,
Webb catches hitters, and Young’s getting old,
Holliday’s happy, but the Giants can’t Winn,
Corey’s got Hart and J.J. is Hardy,
Does Ryan need Church to wash away sin?

III.
I-Rod,
A-Rod,
K-Rod.

Posted 4/17/08

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Stadium Name Game

By James Finn Garner

What to name dear Wrigley Field
As history to commerce yields?

Should it be named for Ken-L Ration
To halt “dog days” for Cubbie Nation?

As ticket prices cull the rank
And file, maybe Citibank?

As young draft picks all go bust,
“Mr. Clean” might lift the dust.

Pepsi Cola? Dell Computers?
Honda Motors? Air-Wick? Hooters?

The problem’s not to name the place—
It’s how to win a pennant race.

We’ll know the team’s completely dotty
If Sweet Lou’s christened “Lou Malnati.”

Posted 4/14/08

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Big Mitt

by Thomas Michael McDade

Which one handled Hoyt
Wilhelm’s fabled knuckleball first
with a mitt so large it looked illegal?
Slow-footed Gus Triandos
or tough guy Clint Courtney?
You’d think John and I were
Oriole fans we used
their names so much!
If there was hostility or money bet
we might have checked it out
at the library but we chose
to keep that dispute
alive as if it were religion or politics
through college and summers
of painting and paving.
Days there was no work
we retreated to the bars
and those names appeared
in the smoke and pool cue dust
at the Wood’s End Bar.
Were the bar stool seats
the size of the glove in question?
At the Ship’s Lantern there were
captain chairs and frosty mugs
to scrawl those two names on
when we weren’t toasting
the procession of braless
Westport women — especially
those with just the right perk
and handful to bring
Hoyt’s flaky pitch to mind.
Years shot by like errant
horsehide before John’s letter
with a clipping came.
In small print it said my pick,
Scrap Iron Clint, had debuted
the trashcan lid of a mitt in 1960.
That bit of newspaper has turned
as yellow as Hoyt’s dainty lobs
must have looked to a catcher
who led the league in brawling.

Posted 11/1/07 

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Wang, But Not Forgotten

by Hart Seely

Some shall wonder why he’s gone,
Some shall cry out, “What went wrong?”
Some will blame that insect throng,
But I’ll remember Chien-Ming Wang.

For sure, his ending was foregone
That night we watched our lead withdrawn.
And now, it hurts to say, “So long.”
And then remember Chien-Ming Wang.

Next summer, birds shall sing their song,
While happy children play along.
But we’ll remember why he’s gone,
Whenever we see Chien-Ming Wang.

You can see more of Hart’s poetry and Yankee silliness at his blog, IT IS HIGH, IT IS FAR, IT IS…..caught.

 

Posted 10/22/07

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Chet Nichols

by Thomas Michael McDade

Could have been the jingle
of his name that led him
to the banking game.

But then again, he was
“Chet Thrift” with runs
back in fifty-one

When his ERA was lowest
in the Senior Circuit —
his winning mark
just a tad higher
than prime!

Posted 10/19/07