EMAIL FROM MY COUSIN
I just received this email from my cousin. So I thought I would share.
THE NIGHT BEFORE FENWAY
By Doug Lamont
Twas the year after Grady, the Sox were a mess,
They’d just blown the pennant , to the Yankees , no less.
The bunting was hung at Fenway with care,
In hopes that the palayoffs soon would be there.
The faithful were nestled all snug in their seats,
with visions of pennants; could the Yankees be beat ?
And Manny in his kerchief ,and Pedro in his cap,
Had just woken up from their long winter’s nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
The fans leapt to their feet to see what was the matter.
Back from the beer stands , they ran like a flash,
Out on the diamond there was a loud crash.
The lights on the Green Monster made Fenway glow,
Gave a luster of mid-day to the ball field below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Tek punching out A-Rod , the fans stood and cheered.
With a broken down shortstop , not lively nor quick ,
The Sox traded Nomar , the fans had a fit.
More rapid than eagles, Terry’s team had game,
And he whistled and shouted, and called them by name.
Now Cowboy , Now Schilling , now Manny and Trot,
On Papi , on Mueler, on Damon , youre hot.
To the top of the bleachers , to the top of the wall,
Now hit away , hit away , hit away all.
Like Pedro’s fastball , that toward Posada’s head flies,
When Manny connects , the ball heads for the skies.
So up from the dugout , the Red Sox , they flew,
It was opening day , with a new manager too.
And then in a twinkling , the Sox took the field,
Spinning his knuckler was pitcher Wakefield.
He was dressed all in red , from his head to his toes,
Ater five shut out innings , in came D-Lowe.
A bundle of skoal he had jammed in his face,
He pitched two no-hit innings to keep up the pace.
Damon’s hair - how it grew , his face was so hairy,
Schilling’s blood covered anklle , that proved to be scary.
Millar’s beard on his chin was a thick as a brick,
At the start of the year, he could not hit a lick.
But Francona stuck with him , in spite of it all,
By the end of July he was hammering the ball.
Ortiz had a broad face, and a massive round belly,
That shook when he smashed one, like a bowl full of jelly.
Manny was Manny , a right jolly old soul,
How cool was Bellhorns homer that hit New York’s foul pole.
A wink of Pedro’e eye , and a point to his head ,
Gave Zimmer and the Yankees something to dread.
Zim was incensed , he soon charged the mound ,
He looked like a fool , as his head hit the ground.
But that was last season , and this year was new,
Schilling rode into town , to join last years crew.
Down three games to nothing , and trainling the Yanks,
Then Roberts stole second , the Red Sox were cranked.
Then Papi went crazy in games four and five,
It was back to New York , and the Sox were alive.
Schilling pitched awesome the following night,
The Yankees were choking , a beautiful sight.
We all know the story of famous game seven,
The Hose bombed the Yankees , Sox nation was in heaven.
As for the series , theres not much to tell,
The Cards were not ready to answer the bell.
The Sox were on fire , and came with a broom,
A clean series sweep , gone were decades of gloom.
Mientkiewic’s catch of Foulke’s underhanded throw,
Wrapped up the series and touched off a show.
The Sox stormed the field as New England was thrilled,
The fans flocked to Kenmore, the streets were soon filled.
The party continued right through the parade,
Millions showed up , Sox fans had it made.
The sox sprang to their duck boats , to the fans gave a whistle,
And away they all rode like the down of a thistle.
But we heard them exclaim , as they drove out of sight,
We’re World Series Champions , and to all a good night.
Posted on 12/24/04 at 04:10 PM