Last fall we did not sound the usual call,
The words “wait ‘til next year” were not heard at all;
A mere five games and a World Series win,
We Red Sox fans had no need for chagrin.

Good players responded to Cora’s manager tricks;
The winter was quiet, there was nothing to fix.
But did you see what happened on Opening Day?
They showed up but it seemed they forgot how to play.

Last year, was it too good to be true?
One hundred eight wins and the World Series too;
This season began, ‘gainst Seattle alas,
Just as well they did not tread on Fenway’s fresh grass.

Chris Sale was a bust, some say it’s his shoulder,
Velocity’s down and he’s another year older;
Four other pitchers complete the rotation,
Despite their high pay do they lack motivation?

Was it something about the West Coast air?
That left those five hurlers in such disrepair?
The season’s still young, it’s no time to quit,
But I’ve got a bad feeling, I must admit.

Eleven games in, it’s too soon to say,
One hundred fifty-one more still left to play;
But to say the least it’s been rocky so far,
No high fives just yet, and no caviar.

So let’s start over, today’s the day,
The Sox open at home, it’s a matinee.
Some kids will skip school to watch the team play;
Principals may not approve but do not make them pay.

For those of you there, with seats in the bleachers,
Check around, you may spot some of those pupils’ teachers;
And in center field, you’ll see Jackie Bradley,
He’s a “junior” you know, named after his daddy.

Benintendi and Betts are the rest of the trio,
Like a pianist I know, they play with con brio;
The rest of the team is the same as last fall,
Their names I’m sure you all will recall,

Xander Bogaerts just signed for another six years,
So at shortstop we need have no immediate fears;
When the team is on defense, Martinez is a sitter.
That’s what happens if you’re the designated hitter.

Moreland at first, and Devers at third,
Dustin Pedroia’s still disabled, the last I heard;
So at second Brock Holt the utility player,
Or maybe Ed Nunez, he’s no giant slayer.

And neither is Vazquez, he’s behind the plate,
Good on defense for sure but his hitting’s not great;
And that’s the full lineup, oh I almost forgot
We don’t have a closer, which matters a lot.

Will Dombrowski find someone to come in and take over?
Take us back to the time when late innings were clover?
I’m betting he will, optimism still reigns,
It’s a brand new year for the game that sustains

Us through winter, and then in the dog days of summer,
When the heat can get bad and humidity a bummer;
Dozens of candidates will surround us full time,
Thank the Lord there’s still baseball, our national pastime.