Frosted Goatee: The Ballad of Wilson Valdez

In honor of his masterful 19th inning relief appearance...

Gave the nod to Dubee,

As the innings grew late.

An overworked Danys,

Had all but sealed his fate.

A few warm-ups needed,

To shed a decade's rust.

Words of Charlie seeded,

"In your stuff, like, you trust."

continued after the jump...

Lesser men may shrivel,

At Votto's patient eye;

But there's not a quibble,

With stoic Ferengi.

He shakes the sign from Dane,

As Howie laughter fraught.

The thousands' question same,

"So what's this Valdez got?"

Crescendo of the crowd,

As eight nine lights the gun.

This moment calls for loud,

Lift our last hope - Wilson.

A deep fly to center,

And momentary gasp.

No doubts allowed enter,

From a warning track blast.

Then comes a hit batter,

In normal times we'd fret.

High fives midst the chatter,

For that damn piece of shit

He needs to bear down next,

As up steps mighty Bruce.

The sinker leaves him vexed,

A lazy fly induced.

Bank rising up with cheer,

With one out left to play.

Nought left on deck to fear,

Fischer's the waiting prey.

With a weak pop-up swing,

Our Wilson's dugout bound.

His step takes on more spring,

A new Bambino found!

(tip of the cap to Sisko & Wet Luzinski for the muse)