Dome for the Deranged

By Dean Weflen

O give us a home
Where no buffalo roam
Under tarp by the baggie we play,
Where echos are heard
While Punto’s at third,
And at first hear JM say, “Eh.”

Dome, Dome for the deranged,
Why ever play baseball outside?
Fly balls disappear,
and hit speakers we fear.
Those carpet burns sure hurt when you slide.

Published 6/14/07

The Saga of Battlin’ Mike Barrett

by James Finn Garner

This is the saga of Battlin’ Mike Barrett,
A tiger of a man with fists of ore.
He’d raise his dukes and take on all comers,
Regardless the color of jersey they wore.

His mighty hands landed many a blow.
He never backed down from a brawl.
But such hardened paws don’t do you much good
When your job’s to be fielding the ball.

Posted 6/14/07.

Gary Sheffield: Free My Verse

by James Finn Garner

 

I called it years ago.

What I called is

that you’re going to see

more

black faces, but there ain’t no English

going to be

coming out. …

[It’s about]

being able to tell

[Latin players]

what to do —

being able to

control

them.

 

You might get a guy to do it that way

for a while

because he wants to benefit,

but in the end, he is going to go back

to being

who he is.

And that’s

a person that

you’re going to talk to

with respect,

you’re going to talk to

like a man.

 

These are the things my race demands.

 

So, if you’re equally good as this Latin player,

guess who’s going to get sent home?

I know a lot of players

that are home now

can outplay

a lot of these guys.

 

From an interview in GQ Magazine, June 2007

Schillborn

By Stu Shea

 

The Red Sox game was thrilling,

A feast of pitching filling,

But the A’s hit lots of balls quite hard off Curt.

Some big plays saved his bacon,

And the plans that he was makin’

Fell to pieces as he got his just dessert.

Shannon Stewart foiled the no-no,

But Curt Schilling still won 1-0,

So he has to feel okay despite the shock.

And while he may feel abashed,

With his hist’ry-making dashed,

At least he didn’t bleed right through his sock.

In reference to Curt Schilling’s June 7 one-hitter.

Marlins Poem

by Stu Shea

 

Squish, squish, squish!

Let’s beat up on the Fish!

Nobody comes to their games anyhow

And you may find grilled marlin delish!

 

Posted June 8.