by the Bleacher Bum Band
All-Star Clerihews 4: Frontier Justice
Fernando TatÃs
Hits home runs with ease
But you should watch him try
To watch telenovelas and not cry.
Bo Bichette
Once used a baguette
To swing at a pitched ball
Left fans in stitches in Montreal.
Max Muncy
Gets pretty punchy
When you ask why his name
Sounds like a gumshoe in a board game.
Gerrit Cole
Would sell his soul
For the secret of eternal youth
And to eat hot dogs like Babe Ruth.
All-Star Clerihews 3: Thundering Fury
Mike Trout
An All-Star, but out,
A parallel, I suppose,
To his post-season career with the Halos.
Ozzie Albies
Likes to trek through the tall trees
And ask the numberless stars
How many Ozzies there are.
Carlos Rodón
Has got it goin’ on
Non-tendered after 2020
Now mowing down batters like el jefe.
Buster Posey
Doesn’t want to be nosey
But just wants to know that
You’re gonna finish eating that?
“Coming Back to Wrigley”
by the Bleacher Bum Band
Top of the First, Early Season
by Mark J. Mitchell
Settling in. Scorecard out. Sun coats the stands
like butter on popcorn. The catcher snaps
a fastball. Strike. Welcome to a game
of light. Two beer guy passes. Don’t write names,
just numbers. Ground ball through the right. Sliced slap—
infield fly rule called. It’s going to land
in leather. Catcher runs out, tries to tame
the phenom on the mound. Nods, and then slaps
his butt. Quick strike. Then he tests out the same
pitch. Bat crack. Ball to pocket. Fast hands.
Short to second. That veteran just stands
on the bag. Using his crack wrist, he snaps
the throw to first. Inning ends. A new game.
Mark J. Mitchell is a die-hard Giants fan. His latest book is Roshi, San Francisco (Norfolk Press). Other baseball related poems can be found in the anthologies Line Drives and Good Poems, American Places.