Featured Poem

THAT'S WHAT MAKE BALLGAMES


IF TRUMP PLAYED BASEBALL                         THE EMPTY UNIFORM – Number 44

“I have no set position. We wondered why they brought him in,

I can play anywhere I want, A guy with nothing much accomplished

first, second, third, left, center, right, After a few years in the low minors

China, Russia, North Korea. And two seasons in the show.

I know baseball better than any manager;

you can ask anyone, they’ll tell you. But who were we to question?

I was first in my class in the So we went about out jobs. Swung the bats.

Wharton School of Baseball. Hit the strike zone.  Stole a base.

I stay at the best hotels, (mine.) Laid down a bunt.  Homered.

I eat the best food, (chocolate cake.) Despite being loaded with talent

I had the best spring training, (at Mar-a-Lago.) We played a journeyman's game.

I continually keep the opposing team Came close, but never made the playoffs.

off-balance by spraying my hits Chemistry the pundits said.  The intangibles.

to all corners of the field like Problems in the dugout.  Bad blood.

Afghanistan and Yemen.

My public is never sure After eight years in the uniform,

what I will do next. The same one each of us wore,

Is baseball my only field of expertise? He moved on, leaving us divided.

No. Off-season, I am the greatest golfer, believe me. Uneasy, at each other's throats.

I want to Make Baseball Great Again, trust me.

And that fact ain’t fake news. ” We had sensed it almost from the beginning.

He couldn't disguise the fact that –

– by Mel Glenn Under the veneer of charm,

Despite the glad hand, the easy laugh – He hated us.


– by Albert "Moose" Mize