This is the best time of the year for baseball fans. I wish everyone on Red Sox: On the front burner a tremendous baseball year.
Twas the night before Opening Day in New York, when all through the Nation,
We waited for the results from Ortiz’s 12th Achilles tendon examination
Our Red Stockings were hung in last place just last year,
Now the hope is Saint Farrell will lead a team we might cheer
Ben Cherington was nestled all snug in his bed,
Dreaming of his free agent has-beens at $13 million a head;
And glad he didn’t sign a Verlander to a seven-year, $180 million contract instead
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
Will Jackie Bradley Jr. make the opening day roster? There's 500 Red Sox: On the front burner threads on the matter,
Away to Fenway we flew in a dash,
Tore open the laptop, camera ready to flash
Who's breaking the story? Who's the source in the know?
Has Mauro Gomez been DFA'd? Has Franklin Morales been put on the DL?
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But our old friend Lawrence “Larry” Lucchino, with a smile ear-to-ear: “we’ll be offering discounts on food and drinks in April.”
We knew in a moment, it was the Sox latest cheap trick
More rapid than Valentine could light a flame and bring shame
Ben whistled, and shouted, he called them by name!
"Now Bogaerts! now, Barnes! now, Webster and Vazquez!
On, Brentz! On, Cecchini! Swihart and Owens!
To the top of the table! On a prospect I'll spend it all!
Who cares if the Red Sox won't be playing in the fall?”
"Now Iglesias now, Ranaudo! now, Workman and Britton!
They'll be cheering at Comerica Park
but at Fenway we'll cry
And while you are reading this, Ben signed another “nice guy”
It's a team full of dirt dogs and the brother of J.D. Drew
There's still not enough horses, but there's plenty of glue
And then, in a twinkling, he strolled to the mound,
The prancing and pawing of this hard throwing hound,
Laying his long finger aside of the seam
He stares just like Martinez… an impossible dream?
He spoke words to his catcher, and went straight to his work,
He went into his windup; then he turned with a jerk,
As he threw out his hand, and was coming around,
Down toward home plate, the ball took off with a bound;
He threw like the old Pedro, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, this pitcher had that old kick;
His heater's upper-90s, the curve ball has bite,
Ben brought up De La Rosa to pitch every fifth night!
And Lester and Buchholz came in focused and healthy
Lackey's ready to roll,
Dustin knows how we do things; Victorino knows what to say
And Farrell's got two catchers and two center fielders to play
Ellsbury stays on the field for his Boston goodbye
No more stars for us, but the payroll's still sky high
Papi had the old stroke back, when he hit 'em they flew,
Everyone batted around, the Rookie of The Year left fielder, too!
The crowd sprang to their feet, to the team gave a whistle,
Salty circled the bases, Dempster threw another missile;
A new year is upon us and the Olde Towne ballclub,
"Bridge Year be damned! PENNANT FEVER GRIPS HUB!"
Good Luck To All!