Your only source for timely baseball doggerel:
White Sox Thanks for Danks
Dear Lord, we now give thanks
That your boy, our John Danks,
Is feeling stronger every outing
And confident about an
Improvement in delivery
That’ll sure make batters quivery.
We’re grateful that he never quits
And seemed unfazed by all those hits
He serves with regularity
(Another branch of White Sox Charities?)
And his positivity with the team–
He remembers just what “Grinder” means
And loves this game more than anyone–
But it’d be great if he ever won.
The Detroit Tigers have had up and down years for the past few decades, but one area they’ve been blessed in is broadcasting. Ernie Harwell was on the radio when I was growing up, and his voice meant vacations, hot nights, Dad’s cigarette smoke, and driving with the windows down. Ask anyone in Michigan and northern Ohio about it.
But Ernie’s partner for many years was Paul Carey. His bass to Ernie’s southern tenor was the perfect match, and while he didn’t tell all kinds of baseball stories like Ernie, he was still a consummate broadcaster. And by all accounts, as fine a man as Ernie was, and his closest friend. Godspeed, Paul, and thanks for all your wonderful work through the years.
Today on Bardball:
The Voice of God
RIP Paul Carey (1928-2016), long-time Tigers radio announcer.
The roar of a Rouge Plant furnace
Birthing a Thunderbird
The muscle roll of Gitchee Gumee
Festooned in spray
The ancient trees deep-rooted
Strummed like a lyre
The tectonic rumble of two peninsulas
Alive in summer