for the Red Sox and Cubs!
Those masters of late-inning flubs.
Their respective League Championships lost—
And by curses, respective, double crossed.
Marlins, see, got the Cubs' goat;
Those Florida fish sunk their boat.
And the Red Sox could not yet extermine
The ghost of their lefty, George Herman.
Cubs place the blame on a fan,
A sinister, foul-grabbing man.
He just reached for the ball—nothing more—
Allowing eight Marlins to score.
with decades of Cubs' teams gone by
|Who have played well, but still came up dry,
His greed for a small souvenir
Marked a frustrating end to their year.
Kerry and Sammy and the others
Have joined in the fate of their brothers:
Cubs of old, who'd come up through the ranks—
Like Sandberg and Santo and Banks.
Chicago was losing to Florida,
The Red Sox's loss was much horrida.
With bubbly all set to uncork,
They proceeded to fizzle in New York.
the eighth with the score 5 to 2,
The Sox hadn't much more to do;
All Boston was ready to shout—
And then Pedro about petered out.
Little thought little enough
Of his own bullpen's Yank-killing stuff
That he left Pedro out on the hill—
And I'll bet he's regretting it still.
before you could say "Jorge Posada",
Their lead had diminished to nada.
And when finally an eleventh inning came,
The Sox had their heads hung in shame.
for the Cubs and the Sox!
The time has run out on their clocks.
They long for a change in their luck, and/or
The return of the likes of Bill Buck-a-nor.
—Anon A. Mouse