| SPINBUSTERS |
| FINAL: Goatz 3, Cardinals Zip |
| Beisbol ben berry berry good to me -- Chico Escuela Merry X-Mas BillyBuck! Santa didn't forget you, he's just on tape delay Yo, that wuz me working the scoreboard! . . . nah you don't remember . . . you were the Star of the Majors and I was still in farm league Hayz, my dad wuz your Ump! Big guy, red hair greying, foghorn voice . . . remember him? Amongst us neighborhood kids, you were already a legend at twelve . . . oh baby those were the Neverending Days . . . summer evenings on the Little League diamond, then crisp autumn friday nights of football at Corbus Field, snuggled next to Dad, when the Saints marched in -- led by Frank McGraw and his little brother Tugger Welcome home BillyBucko, found stag goated black, you played hurt and you played well, and even with that rock-of-error around your neck, you always counted your blessings Yup! that wuz me hanging Numbers up on the centerfield scoreboard at W.V.M.I. Little League! . . . with your homers whizzing by my ears (ball tradeable for snow cone at the canteen!!) A few years later your brother Jim homered offa me, he had your butter-leftie stroke down pat, must be genetic . . . tip my hat to him . . . the sumbitch . . . 18 long years with the `86 Curse, and 86 long years w/o a championship, down 0-3 to the hated Skankeez . . . and Again and Again and Again down the years, like a zombie groundhog locked in the Twilight Zone, that ball just kept slipping through your wickets . . . and you'd stare at your glove, with Nothing in it . . . How's that empty cup taste now, William? Sweet as the punch? So here I am again-again under this blotto blood moon, and there you are in Boy-see, in the desert still, where you learned to enjoy vacancy . . . and there in the east, What's All That, o-Billy-o? How came yon orb to roundness and birth? . . . Y, that's your golden autumn afternoon at homeplate, Bill, a blood trans fusion, Veteran's Recall Week, the whole town come back to visit . . . That's the light returning from luunie-dark, that's my smile eclipsed by the scoreboard, peeking round whilst I scrabble in the box and fish out your Number . . . yah boys again, if just for one day . . . Whattup BillyBuck? how's the family? long time no see . . . Whoa my man! You got Friends in Low Places! Isn't it nice to be home again? Hey Boy Blue, can't you hear all the noise ? It's for you, all the town's waiting there Let us go, there's a show like you ain't seen before! Welcome home, where you been all these years? Look around, all the crowd is in tears It's so good to see you in the streets of your town Hey Boy Blue is back! Hey Boy Blue is back! Hey Boy Blue is back! I've seen bold knights dropping down like flies I've seen kings rolling in the mire I've seen God point the finger of doom to our foes I have fought in the holiest wars I have smashed some of the holiest jaws I've been jailed, been impaled, and been dragged through the world One thing I have learned through these years Is that no man should be stricken with fear It should be that he walks with no care in the world! Hey Boy Blue is back! (G. Lynne) ________ This has been a joint test of the Emergency Broadcast System and a Public Service Announcement of the Greater Boston Council of Independent Churches. Had this been a Real Emergency, you would have been directed to |
 |