A Braves Journal Christmas Contest

Thanks to all the regulars and the lurkers that have made Braves Journal the bar to be at for these last 2.5 decades. Without both, we would not be able to continue providing content to the best group of Braves fans on the internet.

As we all know, the Braves won the World Series, but what you might not know is that there’s an AWESOME DVD collection that documents all of the ups, downs, and glories of the Braves rise to 2021 champs, including all 6 full games of the World Series. On top of that, Atlanta native Ludacris narrates the incredible journey. Here are those links to purchase your own at Amazon and thanks to MLB and SHOUT! for creating this wonderful collection:



A Braves Journal Christmas Contest

Now through December 28th, Braves Journal will host a holiday contest. Whether your holiday of choice is Christmas, Kwanzaa, or Hanakkuh, or if you’re a grinch and celebrate nothing, you can still enter this contest. The rules are easy:

  1. Create a poem/story/song that’s Braves and holiday approved.
  2. Post said poem/story/song to Braves Journal in this thread in the comments.

There will be 2 winners and each winner will receive his/her copy of the above DVD collection sent directly from SHOUT! Too easy! Let’s get jingling, people!

This should be fun. Go Braves.

Author: Ryan Cothran

Ryan is the site editor and manager of Braves Journal. Follow him on Twitter.

17 thoughts on “A Braves Journal Christmas Contest”

  1. ‘‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a Braves fan was crying, not even my spouse;

    The championship banner was hung with glee, so all of Braves Country could clearly see;

    Our boys didn’t have to cheat, we just made the Astro’s take a seat;

    Now Matzek, now Albies, now Riley and Swanson, On Smith, On Fried, On Duvall and Morton;

    Merry Christmas to all, for 2022 we’re all so ready, but please oh please don’t forget to resign Freddie.

  2. Dashing down the baseline
    is a man named Freddie Freeman
    To Truist Field he wants to stay
    Chopping all the way
    Bats and balls connect
    Making the fans cheer
    What Fun it will be to sign Freddie
    So, Sign Freddie Tonight

    Oh, Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie right now
    Oh what fun it will to be
    if you sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie please right now
    Oh what fun it will be
    If you just sign Freddie

    Two months ago
    He made it to the series
    With his fellow teammates
    Playing by his side
    The team was stretched tight, some lost to injury
    It seemed we might not win
    We lost a game or two
    But them we came back for the win!

    Oh, Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie right now
    Oh what fun it will to be
    if you sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie please right now
    Oh what fun it will be
    If you just sign Freddie

    Oh, Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie right now
    Oh what fun it will to be
    if you sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie please right now
    Oh what fun it will be
    If you just sign Freddie

    The fans are feeling blue
    So sign him before it is to late
    Treat Freddie and the the fans right
    And sign this awesome man
    Just get a pen and paper
    And agree to the deal
    Then have him sign the contract
    And everything will be all right

    Oh, Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie right now
    Oh what fun it will to be
    if you sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie. Sign Freddie
    Sign Freddie please right now
    Oh what fun it will be
    If you just sign Freddie

  3. It’s Christmas Eve and like most other women my age
    I’ve spent all day on my feet,
    making sure Christmas is perfect and for each child there’s a treat.

    Covid ruined every plan we had this week and pulling something out of thin air was quite a task.
    That being said there’s only one thing left to ask, “does it matter if this poem rhymes?”

    Because y’all I am TIRED and I just want to rewatch my team win the World Series.

  4. With many, many apologies to Roger Angell, and an equal number of apologies to blazon, and apologies to every player whose name I had real problems with, but I covered everyone who played for the Braves all season, in alphabetical order.

    The season is over
    I got my gift
    But I have a list
    No need for thrift:
    Acuna gets vicuna
    Adrianza? Abbondanza!
    Albies gets diamonds, lots and they’re all frees!
    Almonte? A votre sante.
    Ian? A Porsche I’m seein’.
    Orlando’s share is a long trip there.
    Biddle gets a fiddle
    Camargo’s bound for Key Largo.
    Chavez gets whatever he doesn’t already havez.
    Contreras meets Antonio Banderas.
    Deny d’Arnaud a car ? No!
    Tucker gets a jet… that f***er.
    Dayton gets a Rolls Royce Phaeton,
    Duvall gets one too, y’all.
    Carl Edwards? NFT cards!
    Jay Flaa earned a day spa.
    Freddie gets a mani-pedi. (Just kiddin’: he gets all the money. Get it done AA.)
    Max goes to Fiji to relax.
    Shane’s in LA going down the drain.
    Guillermo’ swords get pains to glow.
    Ender’s game has far to go.
    Alex Jackson eats stone crabs on South Beach until Jeter tacks on.
    Luke’s eating steak until he pukes.
    Nate Jones, not long, but a few new Iphones.
    Kazmar, Sean can party till dawn.
    Dylan Lee’s start earns him Champagne for free.
    Lucroy gets a new toy
    Chris Martin’s bold play gets backstage with Coldplay.
    Jeff Mathis? A Jacuzzi where now his bath is.
    Matzek a Lambo… mos def, dat’s sick!
    Minter a vineyard and his own vintner.
    Morton a PhD in pitching from Wharton.
    Kyle gets some money… Make it a pile.
    Newcomb a UT scholarship: Hook ‘em!
    Ozuna an extra helping of tuna.
    Pache earns an Ipanema sashay
    While Joc and his pearls now own Tic Tock.
    Austin can visit the sights of old Boston
    Rodriguez a jigsaw that charms and intriguez.
    Rosario a mansion far far from the barrio.
    Panda a rocking chair on his veranda
    Santana’s in Fla, maybe Lantana
    Kevan gets an amp that goes to eleven
    Hancock the Hope Diamond or some other such rock.
    Smyl? something which he accepts slyly
    Soler a pavilion at the next whole World’s Fair
    Strider a Derby mount, complete with a rider
    Swanson a Sunset Boulevard chanson
    For Tice a special meal would be nice
    While Josh T gets a trip without a posh fee
    Touki gets something horribly kooky
    Vogt earns a castle along with its moat.
    Webb has to wait – maybe something in Feb.
    Bryse gets a contract – don’t ask me twice.
    Wright gets a Jaguar… I think that he might.
    Ynoa some salads with extra quinoa. (Yeah, that doesn’t rhyme, but I’m exahausted.)

  5. James Webb Telescope Launch

    Watch the start of a million mile odyssey

    LIVe in about 15 minutes @0720 Eastern

    NASA channel is carrying it…see front page NY Times…nytimes.com

    History, guys, in the making !

  6. Great job, everyone. Merry Christmas as well.

    Hadn’t seen my sister and brother-in-law — big Braves fans — since the Braves won it all, so we sat around for a couple of hours watching playoff highlights together. Christmas was a little better this year because of Freddie, Dansby, Ozzie, and company.

  7. In the bleak midwinter
    Baseball fans made moan
    Owners stood hard as iron
    Players like a stone
    CBA has fallen
    Bold Freeman remains unsigned
    In the bleak midwinter
    Not so long ago
    Eddie and our Soler
    May have resigned here
    We need a pitcher, or a pair
    But no news reached the ear
    The hot stove has gone cold
    We in our despair
    Hoist our trophy made of gold
    Just one
    Can we win another?
    Can we have another go?
    Will they ever bargain?
    Will we ever know?
    Since I am a Braves fan
    I’ve know from the start
    In the Bleak Midwinter,
    They will break my heart
    They will break my heart

  8. With deep apologies to Donald Hall.

    New Year’s Eve in Winnersville

    December, and the closing of the year;
    The hot stove watchers complete
    Their hopeful blog posts, and disappear
    Behind their ottomans on which to rest their feet.

    Each player locked away in labor strife;
    Each Freddie fan bittersweet to celebrate
    Our champion free agent, his freedom like a knife,
    Cutting up the lineup, crooked and not straight.

    Tonight we lie in Winnersville again,
    Sports Illustrated must admit Atlanta’s charms —
    Where Evander, Maddux, Max, and other men
    Renamed our town by grit and force of arms.

    The farm system struggled after Copp:
    Except Varsity and Dansby, Ozzie and Ron,
    Mallex and Povse were cream of the crop,
    Next to the flickering shadow of a forgotten Maitan.

    Now Winnersville is like the other places,
    Highways stretching flat beyond the square,
    Same stores and Waffle Houses, same composite faces
    Speaking the language of the public air.

    Old retired numbers still surround
    This outfield fence, like when you were ten
    And your team kept losing in the first round
    You left a friend from school behind you then,

    And now return, a man of thirty-two.
    Talk to the boy. Tell him about the years
    When Winnersville quadrupled, and how you
    And all his friends went on to drink beers,

    Played fantasy, March Madness, and boarded planes
    To draft in person, and eat Doritos when the pace was slow.
    You took the time to blog about your gains,
    As profit is what makes all sports business go.

    “The things I forgot I missed,” you said last week,
    “Or thought I had to, they take my breath away.”
    You put your head in hand, where your cheek
    Was hollow, stubbled lightly with new gray.

    This love is jail; another sets us free.
    Tonight the owners and commissioner distort
    The thin rewards of solidarity.
    The fans lean together for support.

    Negotiations fail, negotiators bide and wait.
    The fans are buying cheap champagne now
    For lonely New Years Eves, another year of fate
    To Zoom with loved ones. I think of how,

    All over Winnersville, when midnight comes,
    We’ll refresh MLBTR with Ryan Seacrest muted,
    To wish as children wish, who suck their thumbs,
    For the lockout ended and Fred’s wage undisputed.

    We will not have unpleasant thoughts this year
    We wear our Hammers shirts, our memories of this run
    No matter what may happen, I have no fear:
    No miracle surpasses 1914, except for 2021.

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