Oh yea Baseball Gods, hear my plea. Please don’t allow those ridiculous home run hankie/diapers to burn their image into my eyes for all of winter. Please don’t allow the rest of America to be forced to watch a battle of the great unknowns-Colorado and Cleveland. Please heed the call whispering softly from the vaunted heights above, issued by the likes of Jimmy Fox, Joe Cronin, Ted Williams, Tony C and Joe Foy, the clarion call emanating from proud warriors such as Dom D, Bobby Doerr, and Gentlemen Jim Lonborg, the call of the wild transmuted by Bill Lee and Bernie Carbo, and the sturdy, calming, hypnotic call of the eternal and everlasting Saint Yastremski. Please, oh please, let Manny be Manny without being Manny, allow Papi to strike a few more thunderous blows, allow Schill and Dice-K to follow up Becket’s wondrous outing, permit young Dusty to roam the bases free and easy for another week or two, the Mighty Lowell to come through once again, the stolid Youlk to firm up his backbone, the ever wise Tech to call a good one and deliver in the clutch, make it possible for Julio and Coco a base theft or two by getting on base in the first place, and, most of all, to wipe of the sins of Terry and the stain of Wake so that they might both live onto another crisp, clear, no-snow-yet, fall Baseball day.(Also, Mofo-It's my Dad's 82nd today. Just think-wotta present!)
6 comments:
A-fucking-men
Ted hear our prayer
Happy birthday Ray!!
I got beat to the punch...
A_fuckin-men!!
also
I called to wish Dad a happy one and promised to do all within my power to deliver a Sox victory. If we all don our best ruby red baseball slippers and click our heels together together, I know we can do it.
I am not going to sit in the section of the couch I sat in when they lost. I think that will make the difference for tonight. As a matter of fact I will not even be in the same room, house or town tonight so it should be a solid win for Beckett.
Tomorrow my son will be in the house so the balance should be ok for a sox win, after that I can't make any promises except not to watch the balls and strikes display on the screen. Everytime I do that, a sox hitter doesn't get on base.
mdoggie- that's all I can promise.
The dream sustained, onto Saturday and Big Money, Big-Ego, Big-Assed Curt.
Happy Birthday Ray. Dads and baseball are a powerful mixture. And having sat on the Buttonwoods porch with the Duhamel patriarch watching the Sox, I am reminded of my dad, who watched the world series with me on the couch forty years back. It was the Sox then, it can be the Sox again.
And to add one more whispering voice from above, I think I hear Dick Radatz (who got traded and missed the '67 series).
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