This Week's Doggerel
Special Fathers Day edition!
June 15, 2026
Establishing Home Plate
by Russell Dupont
My father played baseball
and was a hot prospect,
so the story goes,
pursued by the Braves
until the accident that left him
with eyes that saw two of everything –
“Tough to tell which ball to swing at,”
. he’d say.
Approaching the field off Columbia Road,
he’d slow the car; bring it to a stop
just before the railroad bridge
that sliced across the road;
hunch over the steering wheel.
“From over there.” He’d nod
toward the far corner of the field
where home plate fit into the slab of turf –
“I hit a ball once, over this bridge.
The longest ball ever hit here.”
Almost redundant in pointing this out,
he’d shrug and quickly accelerate
from this place.
He was good, I guess.
One of those guys
who gave truth
to the cliches –
could go to his right,
dig the ball out of the dirt,
make the long throw.
But, he never came to see me play,
and I grew away from the game;
maybe, for a while, away from him.
Until last month, transfixed,
I watched the old film clips,
heard the shouts and cheers,
saw, in all those sun-weathered faces,
my father in all his youth,
saw him once again
hunched over the steering wheel
gazing into the past
as the ball left his bat,
rose in an easy arc
over the field,
over the tracks
and descended slowly
into memory.
Russell Dupont is the author of three novels, a short story collection, two collections of poetry and four chapbooks. His work has been published in numerous journals, including the albatross, Spectrum, The I, For Poets Only, The Anthology of South Shore Poets, Mozaic Daily Jazz Gazette, Re-Side, Oddball, JerryJazzMusician, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Rye Whiskey Review, Last Stanza Poetry Journal, the new post-literate, DADAKU, One Sentence, the Northern New England Review, Verse-Virtual, The Lothlorien Review, Pick-Me-Up Poetry, Silver Birch Press, The Poetry Porch 2024, Tell-Tale Inklings, Concrete Formalist Poetry and Cold Moon Journal. This poem appears in his latest collection, One Foot in Front of the Other and other poems.
June 16, 2026
Nickname Hall of Fame #8
by Jim Siergey
John Henry “Pop” Lloyd, inducted to Cooperstown in 1977, was the best shortstop in Negro League history. In a 27-year career, his lifetime batting average was .343. He got the nickname “El Cuchara” while playing in Cuba, because of the dirt he scooped into his glove fielding grounders.
June 17, 2026
Krukow’s Pride
by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza
When did Pride Night
Occasion Pride fight?
Why do some scribe Bible verses
To hex others with their curses?
Why can’t Giants ballplayers be cool cats,
Instead of defacing rainbow baseball hats?
Mike Krukow disappointedly spat,
Asking, “Why would you do that?”
The former Cubs/Giants pitcher is now a broadcaster
Who comes up with memorable lines fast, and faster.
He coulda told the players, without missing a beat,
to sit on the bench and “Grab some pine, meat.”
Some say he shoulda ignored their ungodly blather,
Maybe only say, “Just another — ha ha ha ha — laugher!”
Here’s how Kruk did respond, without rhyme,
Throwing a high and hard one on a dime:
“I would just hope
they would understand
the demographic of San Francisco
and respect people for who they are.
“What you do to your uniform,
that has weight to it.
You can offend people.
And why would you do that?”
June 18, 2026
Milwaukee Travel Guide 2026
by James Finn Garner
If you find yourself up in Milwaukee
Here’s some sights you must find time to see:
Harley HQ (undaunted)
The Pfister (it’s haunted!)
And the lightning of Jacob Misiorowski.
June 19, 2026
The Walkoff
by E. Ethelbert Miller
Our games ended
when the ball was lost.
Now and then a hit over a fence
rolled down the street into the sewer.
We blamed each other and ourselves.
We were kids caught in a playground
pushing our imaginations
to imagine ballparks.
This was years before last inning
heroics and bat flips. Men now paint
with wood, standing back admiring
the flight of their art. What is
the difference between a fence
and a frame?
Copyright E. Ethelbert Miller. All rights reserved.
June 19, 2026
Close Enough for Jazz
by James Finn Garner
The Yanks have a slugger named Jazz
A second baseman possessed of pizzazz
An inaccurate swing
Racked a ball in his bling
Now he’s shopping for cups, rumor has.
June 19, 2026
“Dad Can’t Help You Now”
by Colin Gawel
It’s the last game of the season, you are standing out on the mound
Bases loaded, score is tied and the batter has a full count
And you are staring in at the catcher and I’ve never been more proud
But my heart shakes buddy cause Dad can’t help you now
I’d trade every kiss i ever got to get you one more strike
I’d volunteer to paint the Eiffel Tower for a lazy fly ball to right
Now remember that it’s just a game but don’t forget to cover home
you’re not alone out there but Dad can’t help you now
Now the trick to life is to get back up after you get knocked down
and winning’s fun but you learn a lot more when you get punched in the mouth
now i know these things but I’d still prefer to never see you frown.
to never see you frown
Now the pitch looked good to me, but the ump he didn’t agree
and as the winning run it crossed home plate, you turned and looked at me
And you’re fighting back those tears as you slowly walk off the mound
and my heart breaks buddy but Dad can’t help you now
You’ll get ’em next time buddy but Dad can’t help you now.