This Week's Doggerel
Big sweeps, big losses and the Big Train
May 4, 2026
Baseball
by Neil Philip Young
(After an account by John Brenkus)
A great pitcher can hurl a fastball toward a batter
. at well over 100 miles per hour.
At the moment he releases the ball he will be 55 feet from home plate.
Simple arithmetic tells us that the ball will traverse that span in 395 milliseconds,
. Less than the time elapsed in the blink of his eye.
Next, the batter will have 100 milliseconds to establish that the ball is in free flight
. and to determine if a swing is warranted.
If so, and if he is not to foul, he will have just 150 milliseconds remaining to
prepare to hit the ball at the sweet spot on his bat and within no more
than 3.17 millimeters from his intended strike point on the ball.
Less than half the width of a pencil.
If, while preparing for the pitch, reactive platelets congeal in him to form
a mural platelet microthrombi,
a clot will course quickly through the ports and channels of his body
. and likely settle in his coronary artery.
The sequelae of myocardial ischemia resulting from occlusive platelet aggregates
in the vessels of his heart
. are believed to be:
. nearly instant loss of consciousness,
. followed by
sudden death.
To be prepared, he
like my father
would need to ready himself
instantaneously
Faster than it takes to strike a fastball.
A retired clinical psychologist, Neil Philip Young has written four papers attempting to solve scholarly problems which have defied resolution (“The Dram of Eale Crux” in Hamlet; Vermeer’s enigmas in his “Music Lesson”; the Retarding Influence of the Revolutionary; and the Replication Crisis in Psychology). I have written many poems that attempt to conjoin poetics with scientific discourse. I also enjoy going to ballgames with my wife.
May 5, 2026
Nickname Hall of Fame #5
by Jim Siergey
Walter “Big Train” Johnson pitched for the Washington Senators for 21 years (1907-27). Among his records are shutouts (110) , wins (417–second all-time), complete games (531–fourth all-time) and innings pitched (5,914.1–third all-time). He was among the five players in the inaugural class of the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1936.
May 6, 2026
Celebration
by Raphael Badagliacca
Game 35: Yanks 12, Orioles 1
There was one
anxious moment
when overpopulation
on the bases
caused some concern
but a bird flew in
to save the day
and then the bats
went to work
to guarantee
without a doubt
that we could shout
“the Yankees win!
theeee Yankees win!”
to honor your every
sterling performance.
With bases loaded in the 6th, two outs and the score NY 3 Baltimore 1, Jake Bird relieved ace Cam Schlittler and struck out the batter to end the inning on the day a legendary Yankee broadcaster passed away.
May 7, 2026
Hard-Won Optimism
By James Finn Garner
Do Cub fans wanna scream in the void
Now that playtime has claimed Matthew Boyd?
In their universe
Things could always be worse
And their joy in the team’s unalloyed.
May 7, 2026
1, 2, 3, 4 … Get Out the Brooms
by Dr. Rajesh C. Oza
Take me out to grand old Wrigley,
Take me out with the crowd.
Buy me some brooms and cracker jack,
I don’t care if I never get back,
For it’s root, root, root for the Cubbies,
If they hadn’t swept four it’d be a shame.
For it’s one, two, three walkoffs,
the Reds are out,
At the old ball game.
Artwork from cubsinsider.com
May 8, 2026
Metro Poem 38
by Madeline Barnicle
Metro poem 38: Red Line, Harrison–Addison,
A beautiful day to float through the dark.
Let’s wear old t-shirts and make a round-trip.
Let’s wear a hat and a wristband too.
Let’s wear out pencils on scorecards
Or play eighteen innings and wear out both.
Let’s forget that we have work to do
(It is a night game. We have work to do.)
Let’s get drunk
On artificial light and not rainfall.
Let’s let the work we’re putting off today
Drown out the contract haggling tomorrow.
Let’s let the game stretch into tomorrow
And put off the construction work
Long enough to catch a train back.
Let’s catch a foul. Or a fair.
Let’s make sure I know where these tickets are for.
Let’s go let go of all we had to fear
Just for a day. I doubt that it’s our year.
Oil on canvas by artist and lifelong Cubs fan Steve Musgrave at the Red Line Addison Street Station, Chicago Transit Authority.