They’re ALL Stars in Kansas City

By Stu Shea

Hey, K.C. fans! Embrace the absurd.
No matter how foolish, it’s your time to be heard!

Vote with your heart instead of your brain–
Instead of Mike Trout, vote Lorenzo Cain!

It’s been so long since the Royals could play,
You’re making a point to the whole U.S.A.

Miggy Cabrera? He ain’t no good.
So just vote for Hosmer–we knew that you would.

And Omar Infante’s the one for you,
Even if he’s hitting .192.

And sure, Alex Rios is on the DL,
And he ain’t that good anyway…but, what the hell!

Click on his name, click all the Royals,
As Western fans grumble and Easterns recoil,

But don’t blame us–we won’t be the goats–
If the A.L. loses on account of your votes.

 


Published in Fans, Kansas City Royals, Pure doggerel, Stu Shea | Link to this poem | No Comments

Jewish Baseball Museum

by Andrew Porter

Of Jewish baseball cards, there’s quite a selection,
But I’ve assembled the biggest collection.
And the prideful fans who’d like to see ‘em,
Will love to tour my Baseball Museum.

There’s dozens of tales about every big league Jew,
So I hope not to bore you if I share just a few.

Hank Greenberg was a Tiger, tall with game
And he’s now enshrined in the Hall of Fame.
Today they’d say, “That kid can rake!”
With his 100-plus ribbies at the All-Star Break.

But the hero knew what he was needed for:
He served the longest in the Second World War.
Returning late in ’45 to lift Detroit from a frightful jam,
He clinched the pennant with a walk off grand slam.

And those who know no facts, must surely know Koufax.
Greatest lefty of them all, youngest elected to the Hall.
The Jewish fans screamed at the top of their lungs!
He had four no-hitters and three Cy Young’s.
Two thousand strikeouts and plus some more,
Then skipped the Series on Yom Kippur.

Moe Berg, a ballplayer with nary a flaw.
Princeton undergrad, Columbia Law.
A catcher for the White Sox — the Senators too.
But also a spy during World War II.
He traveled to Germany with orders to kill
And stealthily filmed Tokyo from the top of a hill.

So many other interesting facts abound,
Where these precious baseball cards will soon be found.

Guy Zinn left an indelible mark:
He scored the first run ever at Fenway Park.

And Barney Pelty, the Yiddish Curver, surely tasted whiskey:
He pitched a shutout when they opened Comiskey.

While Sam Nahem read Marx and Engel,
Lefty Weinert beaned Casey Stengel.

Erskine Mayer pitched with grit
Though he served up Wagner’s 3,000th hit.

Al Rosen, third baseman of great renown:
A groundout cost him the Triple Crown.

Bob Tufts and Elliott Maddox both hated to lose.
Both born as gentiles, both played as Jews.

There was Cy Young winner Steven Stone,
Speedy infielder Sammy Bohne,
And Giants second baseman Andy Cohen.

So the lesson to be learned today — promise, there will be no test.
Is that mensches don’t just ride the benches.
They play ball like all the rest.

 


Published in Ballparks, Chicago White Sox, Detroit Tigers, Former Teams, History, Los Angeles Dodgers, Players, Pure doggerel, San Francisco Giants, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | 2 Comments

Allegation’s Disillusion

by the Village Elliott

Sat in Wrigley with Great Uncle Art,
Local White Sox fan from the team’s start.
Asked ’bout his Sox team Black,
He looked 50 years back,
I could feel dark angst still breaks his heart.

Allegations my childhood team raided
By hacking; legacy degraded.
Feel like fan of Black Sox,
Or Bill Belichick’s jocks.
Perhaps I’m just too f*cking jaded.

I don’t think it mere disillusion
Created by Cardinals’ collusion.
In game’s hacking scandal
The league might mishandle,
But fact of FBI’s inclusion.


Published in Chicago White Sox, Fans, Former Teams, History, Houston Astros, Limerick, Scandals, St. Louis Cardinals | Link to this poem | No Comments

The French Made to Mop Up

by Michael X. Ferraro

The pitching stint of Francoeur
Shoulda been one inning fewer.
But the Phils’ bullpen phone
Had zero dial tone.
Chase Utley’s opinion? “Manure!”

 

Michael’s new book Circus Catch is now available.


Published in Baltimore Orioles, Limerick, Management, Philadelphia Phillies, Players | Link to this poem | 1 Comment

The Title of This Poem About Last Night’s Cubs/Indians 17-0 Game is Longer Than the Poem Itself

By Stuart Shea

The Indians stunk out the joint,
and the Cubs converted the extra point.

 


Published in Chicago Cubs, Chicago Cubs, Cleveland Indians, Players, Pure doggerel, Stu Shea, The Game Itself | Link to this poem | 4 Comments

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