The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Chicago nine that day.
They'd been shut out already with one more game yet to play.
And when the first eight Cubs were retired in batting shame,
A sickly silence fell upon their fans about this game.
A few Cubs fans let out sighs of deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only the Cubs could get a hit, or two
They might even win this game, played in the new Bronx Zoo.
Kalish hit a single and then stole second base,
But Bonifacio grounded out and left Ryan in his place;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of having any good at-bat.
Meanwhile Travis Wood was throwing the cover off the ball,
Yankees hits kept dropping, though, to the sadness of all
Cubs fans, who somehow knew what was about to occur,
Ichiro singles often help lead to runs scoring from third.
Then from 40,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
Old friend Soriano hit a single in the dell;
Then someone named Solarte made contact with his bat,
And Sizemore drove in a Yankee run. Was that the end of that?
The famed Jack Robinson was honored last night in this place;
There was pride in every bearing and a smile on ev'ry face.
Jackie's Number 42 was worn on ev'ry shirt
And then the Yankees brought the Cubs ev'ry bit of hurt.
The Chicagoans tried to plug away. Anthony Rizzo
Hit a ball very far and wound up with a triple
There, proud, on third base he stood, with two out a chance
When Nate Schierholtz hit a pop up, as if stuck in a trance.
From Des Moines came this day young lefthander Zac Rosscup
Hoping to get in the game, before his time was up
And back to Iowa he would head, with frequent-flyer miles
Zac had a scoreless outing. Back to Triple-A with smiles!
Off to the history books I went, to nineteen sixty-two
Fifty-two years had gone by since such a feat came true
Two Cubs shutouts in one day, back then, it happened twice that year
We hoped that such a day would never again come near.
A bad team we are witnessing, here in two thousand fourteen
Play this bad since sixty-two, we'd hoped we would not have seen
But here it is, and though men like Samardzija might bring some hope
It will be loss after loss like this with which we'll have to cope.
The Cubs return to Wrigley soon, with weather looking cold
Perhaps the home ballpark will make their playing rather bold
Samardzija takes the ball Friday, assuming it won't rain
And perhaps the Chicago nine will not take a loss again.
Kalish is the Cubs' last hope, his bat the only chance;
He pounds his bat upon the plate as he goes into his stance.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Ryan's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Chicago -- the Cubs were again shut out.