Oh how the tables have turned
Lots of thoughts now. For now, I'm not saying anything, except...
OH.
MY.
GOD.
Thank you, Curt.
Notes from St. Louis
Midwestern oddities, psychological phenomena, Red Sox rants, the joys and sorrows of higher education, and a whole lotta nothin'.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Previous Posts
- Reality setting in
- Notes from the most important Sox game of the season
- Since there are bigger things in life than basebal...
- Possibly the Penultimate Postulation (aka Red Sox ...
- Here we go again (Red Sox Rant, ALCS version #1)
- Strange juxtaposition
- This is a new direction for Wilco
- Going for the Kill (Red Sox Rant #whatever)
- The Lou's a Zoo
- This CAN'T be good
3 Comments:
Protect your heart
Why I love Curt Shilling
(a poem, by Jen Katz)
There once was a Sock we called Curt
Whose ankle became wicked hurt.
Reebok made him a shoe,
But it just wouldn't do,
It failed to make his tendon inert.
So he gave the team doctor a call,
And asked him to fix him this fall
Doc stitched the tendon together
'Stead of wrapping it in leather
So that Curt could go give it his all.
With a halo, as though lit by a lamp,
Curt pitched hard, through the cold and the damp.
His face got all ruddy,
And his ankle all bloody,
And at the end, the Sox came out the champ!
Jen, that's beautiful. You know what else is beautiful? What I'm watching right now (10:28pm EDT). Close to tears. I'm floating.
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