Merry Christmas

The Staff at Rounding Third would like to wish every one of our fans and readers a very Merry Christmas!

Here's a parody on the night before Christmas we found on the web. Enjoy!

'Twas the night before baseball, when all through the park,
Not a creature was stirring, the lights were all dark.
The bunting was hung on the railings with care,
In hopes a World Series soon would be there.
The players were nestled in their beds for a rest,
Tho' some were out flunking a breathalyzer test.
And pennants and jerseys and team logo caps,
Were about to emerge from their long winter naps.

When out on the mound there arose such a clatter,
A noise like a child chanting "hey batter, batterŠ"
It rang Œcross the field and into the seats,
From the very first row to the luxury suites.
The stadium lights on the freshly mown lawn,
Gave the luster of afternoon baseball games gone.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a ghost telling stories for all that were near.

The little ole spirit so lively, so fast,
Was dealing out images hard from the past.
More rapid than eagles the memories came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
³Now Mickey, now Aaron, now Babe Ruth and Ty,
On Branch Rickey's Dodgers, on Shoeless and Cy.
From the dugout below to the top of the wall,
Remind us, remind us, the great things about ball.²

As dry leaves before the wild hurricanes fly,
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky,
So up to my mind the memories flew,
First one, then another, another, then two.
First, springtime of baseball, best time of the year,
Transistor radios close by the ear.

There's Ott, Mazeroski, and Carlton Fisk's dance,
And Ozzie, and ³Tinker to Evers to Chance².
Dizzy and Daffy, the memories linger,
Of Larson and Berra and good ol' Three Finger,
Gibson and Seaver, the pitchers were plenty,
Mays and Cepeda and Roberto Clemente.
Steinbrenner's Yankees with Martin back when,
He fired and hired and fired him again.
There's some things you do to make easy rhymes,
Like just pointing out he was fired five times.

The Bombers, the Whiz kids, the Miracle Mets,
The pine tar that flows up the bat of George Brett.
The 20-cent soft drink, the one dollar ticket.
The grounder that went right through Bill Buckner's wicket.
The day when Lou Gehrig decided he's through,
McGwire and Sammy as they chased sixty-two.
Cracker Jacks, hot dogs and baseball park dinners,
Home runs and gold gloves and 20 game winners.

The 91 series and who would've thought it?
The 97 series and the man who had bought it.
The race for the pennant to the end of September,
All this and more, The Spirit remembered.
The Spirit remembered the things that were right,
And then it was gone like a breeze in the night.
It blew through our minds after leaving it's call,
³It's Opening Day; it's time to Play Ball.²