Thursday, September 29, 2005

It's All about Baseball...Again

All I want is a three-game sweep,
Far away from the Yankee creeps
Then Ortiz sends it deep,
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?

Lots of base hits for me to cheer,
Lots of strikes called around the ear
Warm face, warm 'ands, cold beer,
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?

Aow, so loverly goin' abso-bloomin'-lutely' mad.
Sox take down the Yanks in three
Hey, George you've been had!

Some Yank's 'ead busted on my knee,
Thin an' tender as a sweet June pea
Yo! Yank-ho! Take care of me!
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?
Loverly, loverly, loverly, loverly


We've got a bet going with (evil pin-stripes fan) Portia.
People Pets will die if she wins.


portia said...

Pets will die?
Jeez, you'll use any excuse to kill off all those cats that roam your house. Boston Creme Pie. No cats.

Wow. You crawled back from near death with this one. Papi is the man. MVP, too. He's earned it.

Bags are packed. Green Monster here we come.

spd rdr said...

We always knew it would come down to this. A part of me says I wouldn't have had it otherwise. The other part of me has a gun in it's mouth.

TC said...

Anyone who says they'd like this weekend to have played out any other way is a maroon.
My guys are soo gonna stomp your guys... for writing that poem.

spd rdr said...

TC: Don't count your chickens yet, mate. Your guys are coming to our house, home of The Big Papi. Anything can happen and we both know it.
One thing is for certain,though: This is going to be the best baseball played all year, anywhere.

portia said...

With apologies to the Chairman...and Paul Anka.

Our Way

And now, the end is near
And so you face the final hurtin'
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state the truth of which I'm certain
You've played a year that's full
You traveled to and from the Back Bay
But now with three games left, you'll do it Our Way.

Regrets, The Yanks have had a few
Even more than I should mention
But we'll do what we have to do, and for you there'll be no redemption
We've planned each winning game, each RBI along the byway
And more, much more than this, you'll do it Our Way.

Yes, there'll be times, I'm sure it's true
When you hope we bit off more than we can chew
But through it all, and despite your doubts
We'll eat you up and spit you out
We'll face the Champs, and we'll stand tall, and do it Our Way.

We'll hit, we'll run and score
You'll have your fill, enough of losing
And then, as tears persist, we'll find it all so amusing
To think we did all that
And better still while at your Fenway,
Oh, yes, oh yes indeed, we'll do it Our Way

For what is a team, what has it got?
Without those pinstripes, it ain't a lot
Yanks play the game they truly feel, and skip the errors of those who kneel
The score will show you took our blows, and did it Our Way!

spd rdr said...

Very witty, Portia.
Not very likely, however.