I'm not a poet (as you'll probably be able to tell by the poem)- I just figured, what the hell, this seems like fun.
It was tryout camp, I knew the time had come
For another season of Fraser fun.
Surely now, in tour number four,
our championship curse would be no more.
All through May the rumblings came
That there wouldn't be many familiar names
Gone were Vic, Fisch, Marcos and Kelly,
Oglesby, his Ks and his big belly
We had offense fueled by guys named Batz and Wishy,
The defense was shaky, the pitching was iffy;
Prognosticators said the team was alright
But to win it all would take a rough fight
Up in Nashua we saw a great surprise,
An early end to Vic's retirement- preventing our demise
Now our once shaky lineup seemed potent again
Surely now we'd be able to contend?
Bryan Morse kicked ass once again,
D-Rob and Fitzy added strength to the pen.
Though there were setbacks and periods of decline,
Up through the standings did the Spirit climb
In late June they did surge up ahead of Sussex,
Bringing us to that week when it was pouring buckets.
For going into the last week six teams were alive,
Only Nashua and Quebec out of the postseason drive.
On the 12th of July the skies were gray,
But the Spirit needed two wins that day
And with Morse on the hill, we knew what would come:
Victory for the Spirit in game one
In game two our 2nd ace Bic went to pitch,
But Mother Nature proved to be a bitch.
A rain delay of many hours- surely it seemed
That someone else would have to pitch us to postseason dreams
But Bic answered the call as only he can,
Coming back after the delay and pitching, and man-
Those Skyhawks batters, they did reel,
And big Shrek's home run sealed the deal
Nick Lopardo was content, but not satisfied
As we all had our eyes on the greater prize
But the accomplishment was great and we were all proud,
To clinch the berth in front of our own crowd.
To the 2nd half we went, no time for complacency
Home field advantage and momentum at stake along with competitive decency
And the Spirit, they did answer the bell
Making us look to September with zeal
But there were roadblocks that made us worry
As our Bic was gone- he'll be at Wrigley in a hurry
But without Bicondoa, what would we do?
Now Chris Farley was our number two
But a good one he proved, until that fateful day
When he injured his arm and his season went astray.
Now the pitching staff was in disarray,
But a new crop of pitchers saved us from dismay
On came Bishop and McNamara; Rival to boot
Making the Spirit's losses seem moot
The lineup was stacked & Weed was the spark,
Vic and Trezza kept knocking 'em out of the park
In Nashua things got rocky and we were swept,
And our boy Garrett Weir, well, he mis-stept
We were DH-less for two games, our team decimated
But soon all of the negativity abated
The team came together, and shouted loud and clear:
You'll have to beat us to win the title this year.
On a roll they went, destroying all in their path,
Leaving us all to do the 'magic number' math.
Off the field, things were good, the blog was alive
Fans were stoked, the team ready to thrive
We were pissed at 1510, to be sure;
"Hockey Journal Weekly" just doesn't have the allure
But we'd gladly accept the games on delay,
As long as we're winning, why should we complain?
And win we did do- in Brockton and New Haven,
Playoff baseball, we were a-cravin'.
The Faithful were ready to bring the noise
And watch the title be won by our boys
It would be our familiar foes from Canada, eh?
That would be our first victims in postseason play.
It started well enough with clutch hits in game 1,
Watching the crowd rise sure was fun
We locked down the win, boy was it loud;
"5 more wins!" came the cries from the crowd
But onto game 2, and we hit a roadblock
Quebec was not ready to have their season stopped
But the crowd did chant "Ole, ole, ole,"
Sure that they'd be back at Fraser next Thursday
We put on our rainboots and won game three,
Just one win up north and we were home free,
To take on our dreaded rivals, the Rox;
"Fun is good! Laplante sucks.... fox."
But Quebec did not roll over in the 4th match
And we recognized a fatal flaw in our batch;
"Not enough offense," we said with a sigh
"Our pitching has carried us all of this time!"
But our pitching would do, at least we hoped
In one last match to prevent the great choke
Amazingly it came down to game 5,
To see if this magic season would stay alive.
Our hopes were dashed rather aggravatingly,
We heard "le troisiemme prix!" instead of strike three,
As we had to listen to the game en francais-
"Maybe better off" we heard ourselves say
Sparing us the aggravation of hearing
The Spirit fold and those damn Caps fans cheering
In a language that we could understand
(But nonetheless 1510 is from my radio banned).
But more important than that, we soon came to realize,
This seemingly destined team had now reached its demise;
All great teams fall, all dynasties crumble
But before we could even establish ours, it tumbled
"What now?," we ask. "Is our team no more?"
A scary thought for us, as you know, for,
To us this team means more than it probably should;
For three months of the year, it represents all that's good
In a complex world where things aren't often great,
Baseball is the most perfect escape
So our summers were filled with the sounds of the game-
But now, the season's over- our team covered in shame.
"When we need it the most, it stops," Giamatti once said,
And after all these years we still can't get it through our head
Baseball, it's a heartbreaking thing,
And for four years Spirit fans have felt the sting
But our resolve is increased and we're ready to drive
For that elusive first title, in year number five;
But in order for it to happen, we need the good graces,
Of our esteemed owner- or else we'll be replaced by the "Aces"
So here's my beg, my plead, my cry-
Don't let this wonderful thing we have die
Please let the city of Lynn and St. Nick-
The owner we love, though he's sometimes a prick-
Realize what a great thing resides on Western Ave,
And make sure it's something we'll continue to have.
We've got the best fans in America (if not the world),
the best field in the league, (or so we've been told).
And both during the games and after they end,
We meet up with and enjoy the company of our friends
We're the Fraser Faithful; we've forged a great bond
And it's scary to think it all might be gone.
I don't think Nick's leaving- there'll be a year five.
And we'll ready ourselves for another championship drive.
We'll redeem the losses of seasons past
Bring a title to Lynn - and have a blast.
It's chilly September now, May feels far away,
But it won't be long 'til those summer nights and days
Spent watching some wins
And making fun of the Grays
So Catch the Spirit and join the fun,
Because eventually- someday- maybe- we'll be number one.
Either that, or Kennedy will leave the pitcher in too long.