} Oh gods, what a mess. Let's see,
} Yes, there seems to be a supplication
} down there somewhere.
} ZADOC! Get in here with the HTML shovel
} and clear all this crap away!
} There, that's better.
} Oh, that was worth while.
} The scene it wasn't rosy
} for the Boston Sox that year.
} The ownership was new and young
} their mission less than clear.
} And then when Epstein made GM
} to take Duquette's old role,
} the fans went out to drink and their
} old agony console.
} A few fans backed Toronto and
} a few took Tampa Bay.
} But the faithful stayed at Fenway
} and looked for a brighter day.
} They thought if only Nomar
} could get up there at the plate,
} They'd pay good money just to see
} the Yankees meet their fate.
} But Johnny Damon came up first,
} and then Todd Walker hit.
} And the leadoff man was cold as ice,
} and helped them not a bit.
} But Damon hit into the gap
} and wound up taking two,
} And Walker drew a walk and
} took first base, so he came through.
} Then from the serried Red Sox fans
} there came a mighty shout.
} It bounced off of the Monster and
} it echoed all about.
} It bounced off of the Citgo sign
} that all the players hate,
} For Nomar, mighty Nomar,
} was advancing to the plate.
} A twinkle came to Nomar's eye,
} a smile was on his face.
} He nodded to the umpire,
} and calmly took his place.
} He smiled down the third base line
} and took his signal there,
} And fixed the writhing pitcher
} with the full force of his glare.
} He tugs his gloves upon his hands
} and digs his toes in deep.
} and hawks a wad at Clemens
} who went to the Yanks, the creep.
} Now Rocket Roger holds the ball,
} and now it's coming fast,
} And Nomar turns upon it
} and lets loose an awful blast.
} And there in Red Sox nation,
} the fans rejoice and shout.
} They throw their caps up in the air
} and toss their beer about.
} They yell and shout and whistle
} and they make a might sound.
} For Nomar's liner put the
} Rocket's ass upon the ground.
} You owe the Bambino a sincere apology.