BoSox Injection gets in the holiday spirit with a parody of the classic poem, The Night Before Christmas, with a Boston Red Sox twist.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Boston,
Not a Red Sox fan was stirring, not a single one;
The dreams of next season stoked their red hearts of fire,
In hopes that Big Papi never would retire.
Even the players, all warm & snug in their beds,
Envisioned home runs & RBIs in their heads;
The starting pitchers, however, clung to their caps,
Hoping their rocky careers would not take dirt naps.
When out on Fenway Park’s lawn there arose a noise,
Farrell sprang from his bed, & woke all of his boys.
Away to the infield Bogaerts flew like a flash.
Not so much Sandoval, who tried to make a dash.
The moon on the field with the new-fallen snow
Was not from Kung Fu Panda’s belt breaking below.
When, what many Red Sox Nation’s eyes should behold?
Santa Dombrowski & new pitcher Chris Sale. Bold!
With a strong, potent arm, so lively & precise,
We knew the order would be Porcello, Sale, then Price.
And quicker than Bradley for a highlight-reel catch,
Buchholz was shoved into the dark, dreaded trade hatch.
“Now, Hanley! meet Moreland! Your days at 1st are done.
On, Han-Ram! On, DH! Go yard all day! Have fun!
To the top of the division! look out Yawkey Way!
Here comes the hot Red Sox offense winning the day!”
As old Pedroia breathed out a full, relieved sigh,
He saw ‘heir-apparent’ Moncada had to fly.
So up to Chicago the Cuban prospect flew,
With Basabe, Diaz, & Michael Kopech too.
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And then, with a thump-thump, Sox hearts fell to the ground,
Hearing Koji Uehara was Cubbie bound.
But they all remembered that Carson Smith was back,
So they didn’t care that Tazawa had to pack.
Dombrowski was all smiles, from his head to his boot,
And fully expected to bask in player loot.
He didn’t bite on the Encarnacion trap;
He kept the money & didn’t look like a sap.
Betts’ smile – how twinkly! his dimples how merry!
His shiny, new Gold Glove made opposing teams wary.
Swihart’s frowny, sad mouth was drawn up like a bow;
At last, he could catch, as Hanigan had to go.
Brad Ziegler‘s departure did not make John Henry weep,
As his relief appearances never went deep.
Dombrowski said, “it’s bullpen for you, Joe Kelly!
Unless Pomeranz’s arm gives out like jelly.”
Benintendi was cheering, a right jolly young elf,
And good ol’ Pedroia laughed, in spite of himself.
But Big Dave couldn’t put all Red Sox fans to bed,
Because the third base black hole was something to dread.
He spoke not a word, and went straight to his work,
But he couldn’t make another move with a jerk.
That hole was for Sandoval’s cold bat & glove to fill,
With the Red Sox still on the hook to pay his bill.
Dave sprang from reporters, questions still to answer;
The Sale trade distracted like exotic dancers.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“ALCS for all, if our pitching holds tight!”
