By Stuart Shea
The Hall of Fame’s honor and riches
Ron Santo deserved without pitches.
.     But denied for too long
.     Was the man’s well-earned song
By an old bunch of sons of bitches.
.
by Cary Donham
Ron’s a hero to folks diabetic
‘Cause on the field he was super-kinetic
.     Whether diving for balls
.     Or arguing calls
Or clicking his heels so aesthetic
Posted on 12/5/11
Published in
Chicago Cubs,
Chicago Cubs,
History,
Limerick,
Players,
Scandals,
Stu Shea,
The Game Itself |
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by Becky Binks
Late autumn brings damp and rain;
The baseball season is over again.
The Redbirds were soaring;
Their fans were roaring.
And Texas went home empty-handed.
The holidays and new year’s come,
Bringing dreams of series rings to everyone.
The hot stoves start burning,
With free agent yearning,
And revulse at the salaries commanded.
Spring brings tulips and green grass.
Training and opening day are here at last.
Northern fans bundle for the game,
Southern weather is a lot more tame.
And all hope to catch a foul single-handed.
The late Samuel Henry Donham (a college and semi-pro first baseman whose career ended in injury, and later a junior high baseball coach) instilled a love of baseball in his family, including his daughter-in-law Becky. She is a longtime Cubs fan whose faith is wavering.
Posted on 11/14/11
Published in
Fans,
Lyric,
St. Louis Cardinals,
Texas Rangers,
The Game Itself,
Youth |
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2 Comments
by Sid Yiddish
At bat was the great Solomon Mitzvah
A clutch-hitting Jew from South Boston’s Yeshiva Finstah
He smashed the ball hard,
Straight out of the yard
But it bounced back and wounded his kishkah.
Posted on 11/11/11
Published in
Limerick,
Players,
The Game Itself |
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by Hilary Barta, assisted by Sid Yiddish
In the winter they swarm to Caracas
Where the fans, true to form, shake maracas
.     Down there all the players
.     Don’t wear many layers
As the sun keeps them warm in the tuchas.
Posted on 11/10/11
Published in
Ballparks,
Fans,
Limerick,
The Game Itself |
Link to this poem |
18 Comments
By Hart Seely
Roy White, you did all right.
Jim Ray Hart, you played your part.
Willie Mays, those were the days!
Matty Alou, is it really true?
Duke Sims, you climbed on limbs.
Sparky Lyle, you made us smile.
Horace Clarke, you jumped the shark.
Matty Alou, we must bid adieu?
Harvey Kuenn, you made the scene.
Juan Marichal, you gave ‘em hell.
Steve Blass, let’s raise a glass!
Matty Alou, we’ll remember you.
Hart Seely’s new book, The Juju Rules: Or How to Win Ballgames From Your Couch, will be published by Houghton Mifflin in time for Opening Day 2012. You can pre-order it from Amazon at this link.
Posted on 11/9/11
Published in
History,
New York Yankees,
Oakland Athletics,
Pittsburgh Pirates,
Players,
Pure doggerel,
San Diego Padres,
San Francisco Giants,
St. Louis Cardinals |
Link to this poem |
1 Comment