2008 World Series: An Ode

The outlook was brilliant for the Philly nine that day:
The score stood two to one, and rain obscured the play.
But when the grounds crew said "play on," and the head ump did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A few Rays fans got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only could we get but a whack at that—
We'd put up even money, now, with our team at the bat.

But the Phillies were still batting, and ball four did Howard take,
And Kazmir was still pitching, and made another mistake;
So upon that stricken Tampa few melancholy sat,
For there were now two runners on with Victorino at the bat.

But Shane flied out to center, to the wonderment of all,
And Feliz, the Giant reject, popped up a high fastball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the crowd saw what had occurred,
Their catcher was called out and that out it was their third.

Then from 40,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
When players took the field, the boos they rose and fell;
But when they saw their pitcher, the cheers were heard around,
For Hamels, mighty Hamels, was advancing to the mound.

There was ease in young Cole's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Hamels' bearing and a smile on his face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd cared about which Ray was at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Aki's eye, a sneer curled Aki's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Aki stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the second-baseman the ball unheeded sped—
"That ain't a ball," said Aki. "Strike out," the umpire said.

From the benches, white with towels, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd a'killed him had not security jumped him instead.

With a smile of Christian charity great Hamels' visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the catcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
And Crawford reached out for it, and at first base came Out Two.

"Fraud!" cried the maddened Rays fans, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Upton and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And when he safely reached first base, the Phillies booed again.

The sneer is gone from Cole's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He throws with cruel violence his ball towards the plate.
And now B.J. is off the bag, and to second base he goes,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Pena's blow.

And now the game is halted: no bottom of the sixth.
No chance of sweet redemption for those two-on-no-out whiffs.
And now the crew rolls out the tarp, and fans get up to go,
And no chance to beat up Balfour makes Philly fans' boos grow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
Bud Selig reads his rulebook, and waits for Wednesday night.
Now some will blame old curses, and some blame Bud alone;
But there is no joy in Philly—Game Five has been postponed.

Congratulations to the Philadelphia Phillies, 2008 World Series Champions!