Schlagwort-Archive: baseball

Go, Cubs, Go!

Manager Lou Piniella leaves the dugout at the end of his team's 6-4 loss to the Florida Marlins.Und wieder mal machen es meine Cubs unnötig spannend. Drei Niederlagen hintereinander. Das einzig Positive ist, dass die Verfolger, die Milwaukee Brewers, auch verlieren. Noch drei Spiele sind zu spielen und davon müssen zwei gewonnen werden…

Manager Lou Piniella sieht nicht all zu glücklich, so wie ich und Tausende Cubs Fans, aber wir schaffen das schon. Und als Nächstes gehört ein anderer Song her, der in Wrigley nach einem Cubs Sieg gespielt wird.

Go, Cubs, Go! klingt ja ganz gut aber etwas einschläfernd. Ganz im Gegensatz zu den letzten Spielen der Regular Season. Dank bin ich live dabei… du auch?

The Crack of a Bat – Baseball 2007

Dieses Wochenende startet die Baseball Saison, und wie kann man dessen besser gedenken als mit einem Gedicht. Einem Klassiker.

Away on this side of the ocean
When the chestnuts are hinting of green
And the first of the café commandos
Are moving outside for a fine
And the sound of spring beats a bolero
As Paree sheds her coat and her hat
The sound that is missed more than any
Is the sound of the crack of a bat.
There’s an animal kind of feeling
There’s a stirring down at Vincennes Zoo
And the kid down the hall’s getting restless
Taking stairs like a young kangaroo
Now the dandy is walking his poodle
And the concierge sunning her cat
But the heart’s with the Cubs and the Tigers
And the sound of the crack of a bat.
In the park on the corner run schoolboys
With a couple of cartons for props
Kicking goals à la Fontaine or Kopa
While a little guy chikies for cops
“Goal for us,” “No it’s not,” “You’re a liar,”
Then the classical shrieks of a spat
But it’s not like a rhubarb at home plate
Or the sound of the crack of a bat.
Here the stadia thrill to the scrumdowns
And the soccer fans flock to the games
And the chic punt the nags out a Longchamp
Where the women are dames and not dames
But it’s different at Forbes and at Griffith
The homes of the Buc and the Nat
Where the hotdog and peanut share laurels
With the sound of the crack of a bat.
No, a Yank can’t describe to a Frenchman
The rasp of an umpire’s call
The continuing charms of statistics
Changing hist’ry with each strike and ball
Nor the self-conscious jog of the slugger
Rounding third with the tip of his hat
Nor the half-smothered grace of a hook slide
Nor the sound of the crack of a bat.
Now, the golfer is buffing his niblick
And the tennis buff’s tightening his strings
And the fisherman’s flexing his flyrod
Like a thousand and one other springs
Oh, the sports on both sides of the ocean
Have a great deal in common, at that
But the thing that’s not HERE
At this time of the year
Is the sound of the crack of a bat.