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Thanksgiving Eve Poem 2010

Back in 2005 Dex wrote Thanksgiving Eve: The Poem to remind Padres fans everywhere that we should be thankful for the cornucopia of blessings that were placed upon the alter of our fandom. 

Then the darkness came, sweeping over the land ...many years passed. without a Thanksgiving Eve poem.  The message of Thanksgiving Eve was lost to the ages.

Until last year... on a Thanksgiving Eve very much like this one... I wrote what became known as Thanksgiving Eve Two: Electric Boogaloo.

This year we teamed up, using the powers of friendship to write an eleven stanza poem.  It's a Thanksgiving Eve miracle!

Thanksgiving Eve 2010: Revenge of Thanksgiving Eve

It's a tradition now, you don't have to groan...
It's Thanksgiving Eve and time for a poem
Each year we thank you, be you Padre or friend
All we ask is that you read and the team to contend.

There’s reason to be thankful, this much is known,
We walked around all summer with a pant full of bone.
The National League West title was all but a lock,
Then they lost 10 in a row, ‘twas like a punch in the jock!

We listened to broadcaster Dick Enberg go senile
Cheering our opponents like it was going out of style.
We laughed with Mud and learned from Scan,
That hair and burgundy suits are what make a man.

We savored Coleman’s voice as he was put out to pasture
Don’t take him for granted, never know if it’s his last year
We also appreciate Uncle Teddy and Mr. Andrew Masur,
Don’t run onto the field lest ye be tasered.

Mentor mentored us and we learned a whole lot
About saying no to alcohol, cigarettes and pot.
Before Mentor, we were proteges to each other
Something, something... Word to your mother.

On media day we fielded with Weisbarth in the dirt
Only pausing occasionally for an opportunity to flirt
Striking out with Cavnar and Chrissy (they pitch well)
Next year we try to go “One-on-One” with Jane Mitchell

Mat Latos was dominant for most of the season
Except for the end and when he hurt himself sneezin'.
His maturity was questioned but hardly an issue
Just keep trainers on hand next time he needs a tissue.

Heath Bell will tell you he’s in shape ‘cause he’s round
and that the league’s best bullpen “Got ‘em in lock down”
Known for his kindness, unless you’re a hitter
Or if you’re a blogger quoting directly from his twitter.

We hoped Adrian would take a home team discount,
Turns out he wants Teixeira money in his account.
Don’t think him greedy for the money he demands,
It’s not up to him, his contract is in God’s hands.

Let's be clear, Gonzalez could care less about you
Be thankful that most of the year, he at least gave a poo
The last little bit was up in the air
Sometimes on it, sometimes not, like homeboy’s facial hair.

The end of this poem is something to savor
Like the taste in your mouth of tofurkey flavor
If you ever lose moms you know just who to call
So be thankful like us there’s still a Gaslamp the Ball


Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Comment 19 comments  |  10 recs  | 

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If I had kids

I would read this to them before they went to sleep.

"I don't think about the things I say. You guys are the ones who think about it."

by surferfromSD619 on Nov 24, 2010 12:13 AM PST reply actions  

This is the best thing i have ever read in my life.

Ever.

But i am also drunk.

But still.

I love you.

LOVELOVELOVE!!!!

I need new pants.

by jodes0405 on Nov 24, 2010 2:40 AM PST reply actions  

amazing

Well done.

by SD Jake on Nov 24, 2010 7:29 AM PST via mobile reply actions  

I blame school for this

But, is anyone else kinda bugged by the fact that groan and poem don’t really rhyme or is it just me?

I mean, other than that, this is great work. High Five!

"Well, it's just ineffable." "Oh, so I'm not 'F-able'?" "No, no, ineffable means it can't be explained." "So I'm stupid?"

by Friar Fever on Nov 24, 2010 7:49 AM PST reply actions  

I guess...

But just don’t tear me apart like you did to Papa Doc.

"Well, it's just ineffable." "Oh, so I'm not 'F-able'?" "No, no, ineffable means it can't be explained." "So I'm stupid?"

by Friar Fever on Nov 24, 2010 9:00 AM PST up reply actions  

Yeah...I don't know him that well to touch him with two hands yet

But, upon reading the poem for a 2nd time today, I can actually feel the tremors of psychitude…

"Well, it's just ineffable." "Oh, so I'm not 'F-able'?" "No, no, ineffable means it can't be explained." "So I'm stupid?"

by Friar Fever on Nov 24, 2010 4:27 PM PST up reply actions  

And if I had a good phone

I might have been able to give him five!

"Well, it's just ineffable." "Oh, so I'm not 'F-able'?" "No, no, ineffable means it can't be explained." "So I'm stupid?"

by Friar Fever on Nov 25, 2010 7:11 AM PST up reply actions  

So, I was stuck with just a hypothetical high five

"Well, it's just ineffable." "Oh, so I'm not 'F-able'?" "No, no, ineffable means it can't be explained." "So I'm stupid?"

by Friar Fever on Nov 25, 2010 7:17 AM PST up reply actions  

The part about Heath Bell is my favorite I think.

P.S. You spelled ‘Teixeira’ wrong.

I need new pants.

by jodes0405 on Nov 24, 2010 9:36 AM PST reply actions  

.

Isn't it enough to know that I ruined a pony making a gift for you? ◔ヮ◔
Uncommon Sportsman :: Absurdity in play

by Axion on Nov 24, 2010 11:16 AM PST up reply actions   3 recs

I am thankful for Mark Neely and some other things

But when I think of what I’m thankful for, I get so many thoughts of how I could be more thankful right now. I remember reading a comment here that wished that each of our starters who won 14 games had won 15 instead. Oh, I concur so much.

You’d think that kind of memory would fade, but I remember so many other lumps of coal from long ago. In 1969 I was a Giants fan. The Giants dropped the first 3 games of the year to the Braves. If it had been the other way around, the Giants would have won the division instead of the Braves. I said that to one of my friends at the time, and he gave me the Don’t-be-so-stupid response, about how you could point to any three games.

No, no, no, this isn’t about math. It’s about, “That’s my house, Santa!” It’s about knowing how good something would taste, but then the restaurant runs out of it. All season I’d look at pitching statistics and say, “Wow, the Padres are going to have 3 pitchers with 15 wins and make the playoffs.” Then they wound up just that much short.

It’s like when I picked the wrong girlfriend. At least with sports it’s not my fault. I’m thankful for that.

by playingwithinmyself on Nov 24, 2010 11:26 AM PST reply actions  

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