'Twas the Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Nation
Fans clung to the hope of a new ace in the rotation
The Red Stockings were hung in last place just last season
Everything went wrong, there wasn’t just one reason
Cherington was nestled all snug in his bed,
Dreaming of one year deals for under $9 million a head;
John Henry proclaimed there would be no salary cap
He’ll spend over the threshold, or at least that’s the rap
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
Did the Sox make a deal? 500 re-tweets on the matter,
Away to Fenway we flew in a dash,
Tore open the laptop, camera ready to flash
Who's breaking the story? Who's the source in the know?
Have they traded for Hamels? Did they give Shields the big dough?
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But free agent Max Scherzer, looking for $30 million per year!
He’ll be the ace of your staff! In the clubhouse he’ll click!
We knew in a moment, this was the old Boras trick
More rapid than flying on Henry’s jet plane
Boras whistled, and shouted, played his usual game:
"Now, Heyman! now, Morosi! now, Olney and Bradfo!
On, Rosenthal! Cafardo! on, 14-year-old kid and Gammo!
Scherzer has 3 offers! It takes 6 years to play ball!
So write up a story, I’m ‘a source’ you can call!”
Players still flock to Boras, contract price will be high,
He plays games with the numbers, he still tells the big lie,
So it's back to the phones, 'cause he's gotta move Max,
And if the Red Sox do sign him, they’ll sell more “Sox Pax”
And then, in a twinkling, he strolled to the mound,
The prancing and pawing of this hard throwing hound,
Laying his finger aside of the seam,
He gave me a nod, Is this an impossible dream?
He spoke not a word, just continued to work,
He went into his windup; then turned with a jerk,
As Max threw out his hand, and was coming around,
Down toward home plate, the ball took off with a bound;
He threw like the old Rocket with his snarl and grit,
And a sneaky slider that's nearly impossible to hit;
His heater's mid-90s, the changeup has bite,
Scherzer will pick up a win every fifth night!
Joe Kelly and Buchholz came in focused and healthy
Porcello’s ready to roll, and now Castillo is wealthy
Dustin's banged up already; But Hanley’s ready to play
Victorino returns, but he won’t want to stay
John Farrell is back, his reputation at stake
After last year’s team never got a good shake
Vazquez at catcher is a big question mark
But the Andover kid could provide backstop spark
The Panda’s at third, Mookie Betts is still spry
More stars on the payroll, but the cost is sky high
Papi had the old stroke back, when he hit 'em they flew,
Everyone batted around, Bogaerts, too!
The crowd sprang to their feet, to the team gave a whistle,
Nap circled the bases, Koji threw another missile;
A new year is upon us and the Olde Towne ballclub,
"Let's go worst to first again! PENNANT FEVER GRIPS HUB!"
...with apologies as always to Clement Clarke Moore and Henry Livingston, Jr.
Merry Christmas, Boston Dirt Dogs