(This poem is dedicated to Vin Scully who, during the division-clinching broadcast said, "Hong Chih Kuo throws hard don't you know.")
Dodgers Clinch the Division
Hong Chih Kuo throws hard don't you know, but Chavez Ravine is no Big Blue Machine, Dodgers get strikeouts and surfers get wipeouts, summer is over and Torre can glower at a defense now porous and an offense that's dolorous while the boo-birds sing the chorus, 5 losses a stench hope 's riding the bench, no time to be cocky, a Colorado Rocky waits at the plate to seal the fate of Dodger blue that has bled on the diamond, it's said.
A season unraveled, Manny's dreadlocked in battle with a bat that seems addled, time for the death-knell to rattle when all of a sudden a wild seventh inning sends my head spinning, thunder is thudding and balls are now scudding down lines and in alleys, lightning cracks in the valley as the Dodgers now rally.
Hope has returned and the blackness now burns, the crowd is aroaring, the stadium soaring, a singular vision, Dodgers clinch the division.
Today I honor the memory of Marek Edelman, the last living leader of the Warsaw Ghetto revolt against the Nazis in World War II, who recently passed away in Poland. He showed courage and honor in the face of unimaginable horror and cruelty, and I wonder how he felt about the rising tide of anti-semitism in Poland, Europe, and the world at the time of his death.