We Few, We Happy Few
(With numerous, abject apologies to William Shakespeare)
Scene: Visitor's Clubhouse, Yankee Stadium, October 20, 2004
(The BOSTON RED SOX are gathered, done up in their equipment.)
(They look at the closed circuit TV, at the NEW YORK YANKEES taking batting practice)
MILLAR:Where is the Captain?
DAMON:He walks about the batting practice to view their lineup.
MUELLER: Of homerun power they have nearly 40 each.
LOWE: God's arm strike with us! Tis' fearful odds.
Pesky be with you, players, I'll to my mound.
If we no more play again together till Spring Training
Then joyfully, my kind pen-men, players all, adieu.
ORTIZ: Farewell, kind D-Lowe, pitch well today;
and yet do not think about it,
but be framed in the Good Lowe Face, and not the bad.
(LOWE exits RIGHT, to the BULLPEN)
(CAPTAIN TEK enters, unseen)
MUELLER: Oh that we had but one utility infielder of those players in MLB
that swing no bats today.
CAPTAIN TEK:What's he that wishes so?
My infield cousin Mueller? No, my fair Billy.
If we are meant to lose, we are enough that our Nation
May assign us blame; and if to win,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will, I pray thee wish not one LOOGY more.
By Teddy Ballgame, I am not covetous for incentive clauses
Nor doth I care who feeds upon my endorsements
But if it be a sin to covet wins,
I am the most offending man alive.
God's peace, I would not lose so great an honor
As one more costly free agent methinks would share from us.
Rather proclaim it presently through our clubhouse:
Tell him which hath no Achille's Heel for this fight
Let him be traded.
We would not lose in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to lose with us.
This day is called the Day of Game 7.
He that plays through this Game and come winning home
Will lift his glove up when this day is named
And smile him at the name of Game 7.
He that shall play this Game
Will yearly on this day man-hug his neighbors
And say "Tomorrow is Game 7's Day."
Hitting coaches forget, yet all shall be forgot
Yet he'll recall, with padded stats
What RBIs he drove in that Day. Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as Hall of Fame names:
Tek the Captain, Ramirez and Ortiz,
Mueller and Bellhorn, Lowe and Millar
Be in their chaws freshly remembered.
This story shall the Sox Fan teach his daughter
And October 20th shall ne'er go by
From this day till the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers
For he today that throws a ball today with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so demure
This day will brighten his condition
And players out in Oakland now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here
And hold their batting averages cheap whiles any speaks
That played with us upon Game 7's Day!
Scene: Visitor's Clubhouse, Yankee Stadium, October 20, 2004
(The BOSTON RED SOX are gathered, done up in their equipment.)
(They look at the closed circuit TV, at the NEW YORK YANKEES taking batting practice)
MILLAR:Where is the Captain?
DAMON:He walks about the batting practice to view their lineup.
MUELLER: Of homerun power they have nearly 40 each.
LOWE: God's arm strike with us! Tis' fearful odds.
Pesky be with you, players, I'll to my mound.
If we no more play again together till Spring Training
Then joyfully, my kind pen-men, players all, adieu.
ORTIZ: Farewell, kind D-Lowe, pitch well today;
and yet do not think about it,
but be framed in the Good Lowe Face, and not the bad.
(LOWE exits RIGHT, to the BULLPEN)
(CAPTAIN TEK enters, unseen)
MUELLER: Oh that we had but one utility infielder of those players in MLB
that swing no bats today.
CAPTAIN TEK:What's he that wishes so?
My infield cousin Mueller? No, my fair Billy.
If we are meant to lose, we are enough that our Nation
May assign us blame; and if to win,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will, I pray thee wish not one LOOGY more.
By Teddy Ballgame, I am not covetous for incentive clauses
Nor doth I care who feeds upon my endorsements
But if it be a sin to covet wins,
I am the most offending man alive.
God's peace, I would not lose so great an honor
As one more costly free agent methinks would share from us.
Rather proclaim it presently through our clubhouse:
Tell him which hath no Achille's Heel for this fight
Let him be traded.
We would not lose in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to lose with us.
This day is called the Day of Game 7.
He that plays through this Game and come winning home
Will lift his glove up when this day is named
And smile him at the name of Game 7.
He that shall play this Game
Will yearly on this day man-hug his neighbors
And say "Tomorrow is Game 7's Day."
Hitting coaches forget, yet all shall be forgot
Yet he'll recall, with padded stats
What RBIs he drove in that Day. Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as Hall of Fame names:
Tek the Captain, Ramirez and Ortiz,
Mueller and Bellhorn, Lowe and Millar
Be in their chaws freshly remembered.
This story shall the Sox Fan teach his daughter
And October 20th shall ne'er go by
From this day till the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers
For he today that throws a ball today with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so demure
This day will brighten his condition
And players out in Oakland now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here
And hold their batting averages cheap whiles any speaks
That played with us upon Game 7's Day!
posted by Emma at 11:31 PM
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