NOTE FROM CYN: Tru sent me a write-up of his experience at the Trop last weekend. Tru is one of the most fair-minded fans I know and for him to tell me that the experience went well BEYOND being a bad one (and not just because the Sox lost)…well, I totally take him at his word.
The experience was so bothersome to him that he ended up asking me to NOT post his final write-up of it. Then this morning he sent me a poem. He didn’t ask me if I wanted to post it – but I do. I might not agree with all the sentiments in it, but I certainly understand where it’s all coming from and, quite honestly, I think it’s one hell of a poem! 🙂
So, after the jump, I give you Tru’s wish for tonight’s game! (And it involves bacon – wooo!)
Cook a pound of bacon, fry it with fish in a pan
I hate the fucking Sting Rays, so that makes me a fan
We’re playing for another day, backs against the wall
But these are the Red Sox, man they should stand tall
Josh and Tek together, bring it to the Rays
While all the other guys, make the on field plays
The bats tonight will be mighty, take it to the bank
That fucker James Shields, will wind up in that tank
It’s found there out near center, past the fake green grass
And look for Brenk and Brenda, they’ll be kicking ass
Those stupid little cowbells, all blue and clanking loud
Will be getting drowned out, as Sox fans stand proudl
The Trop is such a shithole, it hasn’t been sold out
Ryan Seacrest is tool job, I want to see him pout
So take those dumbassed Mohawks, and shave em’ off your heads
Cause Boston’s in the house tonight, man you guys are deadl
Now if this doesn’t work out, I never wrote this poem
I’ll blame it on ol Steinbrenner and watch him as he foams
The end
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