Monday, October 18, 2004
Prayer of Thanksgiving
O Most Merciful Baseball Father, thou hast given
Unto thy undeserving Nation a great victory.
Many signs and omens have been given, and we,
Who wander like the Israelites in the desert,
Had lost faith.
But Thou art a Gentle Father, and have given us a rally for the ages.
Thank you, O Clement One, for the Great Papi, and
His mighty shoulders, which power many dingers unto Thy Glory
Grant, O Loving Divine Manager, that we,
Thy Unprofitable fans, might keep Thy Faith in our hearts,
So as to believe in the power of the intercession of Thy Holy Players:
St. Yaz, Immaculate Captain, ora pro nobis
St Pudge, The Ever-Clutch, ora pro nobis
St. Dewey, The Gun in Right, ora pro nobis
St. Freddie, Mendicant of CF, ora pro nobis
St. Dom, The Underappreciated, ora pro nobis
St. Steamer of the Wayward Beach Ball, ora pro nobis
St. Buckner, The Maligned and Afflicted of the Lord, ora pro nobis
St. Spaceman, Proto-Idiot, ora pro nobis
St. Pesky of the Pole, ora pro nobis
Holy Tiant, Forerunner of the Facial Hair, ora pro nobis
All Holy Fielders and Batters, ora pro nobis
If, in Thy Superabundant Generosity, Thou wast to allow
Thy Holy Idiots to be the first team to come back from 3-0,
We will declare a Holy Crusade to Arizona, to recover
The Holiest of Fenway Relics, the Head of the Thy servant
St. Ted, Holy Kid of the Homer.
Dieu li volt!
Cowboy Up!
O Most Merciful Baseball Father, thou hast given
Unto thy undeserving Nation a great victory.
Many signs and omens have been given, and we,
Who wander like the Israelites in the desert,
Had lost faith.
But Thou art a Gentle Father, and have given us a rally for the ages.
Thank you, O Clement One, for the Great Papi, and
His mighty shoulders, which power many dingers unto Thy Glory
Grant, O Loving Divine Manager, that we,
Thy Unprofitable fans, might keep Thy Faith in our hearts,
So as to believe in the power of the intercession of Thy Holy Players:
St. Yaz, Immaculate Captain, ora pro nobis
St Pudge, The Ever-Clutch, ora pro nobis
St. Dewey, The Gun in Right, ora pro nobis
St. Freddie, Mendicant of CF, ora pro nobis
St. Dom, The Underappreciated, ora pro nobis
St. Steamer of the Wayward Beach Ball, ora pro nobis
St. Buckner, The Maligned and Afflicted of the Lord, ora pro nobis
St. Spaceman, Proto-Idiot, ora pro nobis
St. Pesky of the Pole, ora pro nobis
Holy Tiant, Forerunner of the Facial Hair, ora pro nobis
All Holy Fielders and Batters, ora pro nobis
If, in Thy Superabundant Generosity, Thou wast to allow
Thy Holy Idiots to be the first team to come back from 3-0,
We will declare a Holy Crusade to Arizona, to recover
The Holiest of Fenway Relics, the Head of the Thy servant
St. Ted, Holy Kid of the Homer.
Dieu li volt!
Cowboy Up!
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Oremus
O Loving Father of all that is good on the diamond, hear our prayer!
The Holy Idiots of Landsdown Street are in grave danger,
Falling before the mercenary hordes of the Evil One.
Give them strength in this, their hour of need.
St. Cronin, Perpetual Manager, and St Yaz, Most Immaculate Captain, pray for us.
The man who would make himself an image of Your Son,
So tough in the leadoff spot all year,
Has lost his eye and swing, staying off the basepaths when he is most needed.
Grant him Your Favor, O Most Clement One, that he might pick up the ball,
and take many walks and smash many doubles, unto thy Everlasting Glory.
St Freddie, Patron of CF, and St. Dewey, Leadoff Warrior of the Lord, pray for us.
We pray that the stinky heat balm of Your healing Grace
Might come over the ankle tendons of Your servant Curt.
But if You so ordain that he must forebear,
May his stalwart support guide his brother pitchers
To many K's, and flyouts and groundouts.
Holy Tiant, Strong Arm of God, and Blessed Spaceman of the Bloody Fracas, pray for us.
The lineup, O lord, being so full of Your Idiotic Servants -
Manny and Ortiz, Millah and Trot, Tek and Mueller,
Bellhorn and He Who Has Replaced the Whiney One-
Grant that they may hit many RBI singles and doubles and dingers, which are so pleasing to You.
St. Ted, Holy Kid of the Homer, and St. Pudge, The Ever-Clutch, pray for us.
O Most Merciful Father, Your Idiots have been through the Dark Night,
Grant that they may leave behind in that Unholy Land all that ails them,
And find new life in the Most Holy of Your Temples.
St. Pesky of the Pole, and St. Dom the Underappreciated-because-of-His-evil-pinstriped-brother, pray for us.
All Holy Batters and Fielders, pray for us
May Your Servants take a Three Game Sweep at Home,
And send the Mercenary Hordes of He Who We Do Not Name
Back to their Bronx Coven, once again knowing the fury of Your Holy Crusaders
And may the ancient refrain, so rarely heard in these Dark Days, once again resound:
COWBOY UP!
Amen.
O Loving Father of all that is good on the diamond, hear our prayer!
The Holy Idiots of Landsdown Street are in grave danger,
Falling before the mercenary hordes of the Evil One.
Give them strength in this, their hour of need.
St. Cronin, Perpetual Manager, and St Yaz, Most Immaculate Captain, pray for us.
The man who would make himself an image of Your Son,
So tough in the leadoff spot all year,
Has lost his eye and swing, staying off the basepaths when he is most needed.
Grant him Your Favor, O Most Clement One, that he might pick up the ball,
and take many walks and smash many doubles, unto thy Everlasting Glory.
St Freddie, Patron of CF, and St. Dewey, Leadoff Warrior of the Lord, pray for us.
We pray that the stinky heat balm of Your healing Grace
Might come over the ankle tendons of Your servant Curt.
But if You so ordain that he must forebear,
May his stalwart support guide his brother pitchers
To many K's, and flyouts and groundouts.
Holy Tiant, Strong Arm of God, and Blessed Spaceman of the Bloody Fracas, pray for us.
The lineup, O lord, being so full of Your Idiotic Servants -
Manny and Ortiz, Millah and Trot, Tek and Mueller,
Bellhorn and He Who Has Replaced the Whiney One-
Grant that they may hit many RBI singles and doubles and dingers, which are so pleasing to You.
St. Ted, Holy Kid of the Homer, and St. Pudge, The Ever-Clutch, pray for us.
O Most Merciful Father, Your Idiots have been through the Dark Night,
Grant that they may leave behind in that Unholy Land all that ails them,
And find new life in the Most Holy of Your Temples.
St. Pesky of the Pole, and St. Dom the Underappreciated-because-of-His-evil-pinstriped-brother, pray for us.
All Holy Batters and Fielders, pray for us
May Your Servants take a Three Game Sweep at Home,
And send the Mercenary Hordes of He Who We Do Not Name
Back to their Bronx Coven, once again knowing the fury of Your Holy Crusaders
And may the ancient refrain, so rarely heard in these Dark Days, once again resound:
COWBOY UP!
Amen.
