Ode To Big Papi

Oh Papi, Oh Papi, Oh Papi Ortiz,
When the Red Sox are lost
And can't find the keys,
When all that remains
Is one last out and a tease,
When Red Sox Nation is
Weak in the knees,
You stride to the plate
With the game on the line,
A large bat in your hand,
You check for the sign.
"Swing away, Swing away,"
It's always the same,
You're not there to bunt,
That would be insane!

With a clap of your hands
You get ready to bat,
You step into the box
As cool as all that.
No sweat on your brow,
No -- I don't think so,
You've been here before,
You've put an end to the show,
With a homer to right,
Or maybe a single to left,
You take what they give you,
To hell with the rest.

Your next victim winds up,
Then lets a pitch fly,
Ball one, then ball two,
He's your kind of guy.
The next pitch that comes,
Is right over the plate,
You swing the bat hard,
And it's always like fate,
You hit the ball square,
With all of your might,
Then physics takes over,
As the baseball takes flight,
It carries and carries,
Into the dark night.
The Sox fans go crazy,
You did it again,
Another walk-off by Papi,
Into the bull-pen.

Now you round the bases,
With a victory smile,
That's brighter than Boston,
And as wide as a mile.

In 2004,
When all hope disappeared,
You slayed the Yankee$
With a base hit and no fear.
Your hit in Game 4
Helped end the "Curse,"
(If it ever existed -- it's now in a hearse.)
Oh, the champagne tasted so sweet,
That remarkable Fall!
I want to sip it again,
To stand proud, to stand tall.

Where the hell did you come from, Papi Ortiz?
Oh yes, the Twins --
They sure gave you the freeze.
Their loss is our gain,
I'm happy to say,
We're glad to have you,
Day, after M-V-P day.

Your clutch hitting is now famous,
That much is true,
I have only one question:
Why the fuck don't they WALK you?