Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Of Those Grinning Gray Ghosts Of '08. . . But Not 2008 -- Nineteen-And-Ought-Eight(!). . .

For those of you that know -- you already know.

For those of you that don't -- see after the poem, below.

Baseball’s Sad Lexicon

These are the saddest of possible words:

“Tinker to Evers to Chance.”

Trio of bear cubs, and fleeter than birds,

Tinker and Evers and Chance.

Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,

Making a Giant hit into a double —

Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble:

“Tinker to Evers to Chance”.

-- Franklin Pierce Adams (c. 1910)

This was a New York Baseball Giants fan's poetic lament -- penned when last the Cubs were universally feared, nation-wide. Let it begin anew, this very evening, some 108 years later. Smile. Go. Cubs. Go.


No comments: