Saturday, April 30, 2011

"O Captain, My Captain," by Walt "No Neck" Whitman

O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every crack,
thy pennant prizes won;
The end is near, the bells I hear,
the bleacher crowd exulting,
Pettitte's gone, Mo's saves are down,
Posada's bat is melting:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O, these aching pains of war!
Where on the deck my Captain waits
Going oh for four.


O Captain! my Captain!
for you, there is no blame;
We rise and scream in rapture
when Bob Shepard calls your name;
For you, bouquets and August days;
our fondest, greatest player;
For you, we form a swaying mass,
recalling Jeffrey Maier;
Dear CAP-I-TAN! O, CAP-I-TAN!
John Sterling's voice doth roar!
But it's no dream you stand on deck,
Going oh for four.


My Captain does not answer; 
his strike zone head to belly;
No vision seems to stir thy pulse, 
aside from Minka Kelly;
Thy plaque is there in Cooperstown,
"Our Greatest Yank," it says;
And yet, we yearn to see
Girardi play Edward Nunez.
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with hope no more,
Watch on deck, my Captain sigh,
Going oh for four.


4 comments:

Unknown said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

Great job!

John Boehner said...

sob, sob, sob, sob

Joe De Pastry said...

I doubt that I will ever yearn to see Nunez.