Twas the night before opening day and all through Ruth’s house not a creature was stirring not even Brandon Drury.
The bats were hung in the stadium with care in hopes that home runs would soon be there.
The pitchers were nestled all snug in the pen, While visions of strikeouts danced in their heads.
Boone in his office and I in my cap, Are all fired up for the World Series on tap.
When out on the field arose such a clatter, I sprang from the stands to see what was the matter.
Away to the field I flew like a flash, Jumped over the barriers and lost my cap.
The moon on the breast of the newly acquired show, Gave the luster of opening day to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature Toe and eight other fielders.
With a little old Jeter so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be the captain.
More rapid then Marlins his old friends they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now! Gardner Now! Judge Now! Stanton Now! Gregorious, On Walker On Chapman On Gray and On Green.
To the top of the right field porch, to the top of the centerfield wall, Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!
Happy 2018 Season To All!