WS Game 3 Poem: The Man from Daddy

We are entering uncharted territory for this Red Sox fan. And I’m not sure how to feel about this state of events. Three games to none? One game away.

But, let my Sox-consciousness come in again. We were one strike away in ‘86, so nothing is ever a sure thing. And the last series is an example of just that. Tito is right: one game at a time.

But if last night was the last night for Pedro in a Red Sox uniform, let’s celebrate his great performance: seven inning shutout World Series baseball. Back in the Sixties, the Man from UNCLE was my favorite TV show. He always came through. Last night, our Man from Daddy sure came through.

Men from Daddy, read UNCLE

Napoleon Solo infiltrates
the infield, working undercover
with his changeup—not a ray gun,
instead, each beam will seem to hover
over the heartland of THRUSH’s home
and turn their super chromosome
to dust. Meanwhile Kuryakin
shoots a homer in the first
and guns a batter out at home
with laser ease. These good guys thirst
for something lost some scores of years—
back home their motherland's in Cheers!

Our Mantra: one game at a time. Go D-Lowe!

Update: see my complete Red Sox ALCS/World Series chapblog here.