Friday, December 25, 2009

A Red Sox Christmas

Christmas at Fenway

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Fenway
Not a creature was stirring, but perhaps Jason Bay
The red socks were hung by the Monster seats with care
In hopes that John Henry soon would be there

The Pink Hats were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Jacoby danced in their heads
And Heidi in her 'kerchief and TC in his cap
Had just settled in for a long winter's nap
When out on Landsdowne there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the press box to see what was the matter
Away to second, Ellsbury went in a flash
We're hoping that he and Cameron won't clash

The moon on the breast of the new hockey rink
Gave a luster of mid-day to old Charlie Zink
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Theo the GM, bringing good cheer

More rapid than Yankees, his prospects they came
He whistled and shouted and called them by name
"Now , Kelly! Now, Reddick! Now Kalish and Tazawa!
On Rizzo! On Gibson! On Fuentes and Pichardo!
To the right field porch and the top of The Wall
You won't dash away to Hoyer, never at all."

Back to the playoffs, the players they flew
With Lester and Beckett and John Lackey, too
And then in a twinkling, I heard in the foyer
The prancing and pawing of Dustin Pedroia

As I drew in my head, and as turning around
Down the chimney Big Papi came with a bound
He was dressed in Ed Hardy, from his head to his foot
His records now tarnished by New York Times charges
A bundle of bats he had thrown in his pack
And promised his production soon would be back

Tito's eyes -- how they twinkled. Youk's beard, kind of scary
Drew's shoulder was sore, but Lowell was ready
Pap's droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
The beards on their chins trimmed up by L'Monstro

The stump of a butt, Rem Dawg once held in his teeth
The smoke it encircled his head like a wreath
He quit, and here's hoping that still is the truth
Because, Jerry, we want you back in the booth

Dice-K was chubby and plump and was never himself
But be thankful at least that he's not Kei Igawa
A wink of Wake's eye and a twist of his wrist
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread

'Tek spoke not a word, but went straight to work
Helping Victor Martinez, 'cause he's not a jerk
Marco Scutaro was there, decked out in holly
Shortstop this season won't be so sorry

Bard sprang to the mound, his fastball did whistle
And away went the Sox, on a World Series mission
I heard Castiglione exclaim, as the ball flew out of sight
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Merry Christmas Everyone!!!


Collective Troll said...

Be thankful we are all not Kei Igawa! Great poem! Merry Christmas Adam!!!!!!!! Still hate the Sox, but really enjoy your blog, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!!!

night owl said...

Merry Christmas! That post seemed a lot of work. Good stuff!

I Am The Average Joe said...

absolutely awesome. As a Mets fan, do me a favor and tell Bay to make up his mind already. Merry Christmas

AdamE said...

Night Owl - I didn't actually write that poem, I swiped it from Extra Bases. Tomorrow's post was actually a bunch more work. Bloggger didn't agree with what I wanted to do with the pictures.

Merry Christmas to everyone.