A reading from the Book of Baseball:
And the woman ka-Ay spake unto the boy Jo-seph, saying come, my son, and eat of the Eggo which hath been toasted and set before you.
And the child did inquire urgently of the crone, hath the Rays won last night as I slept, and smote the Sox of Bo?
Verily, my son, they did not. For the 7-run lead passed away as smoke from a burning bush, and in the 9th inning, 2 were out and 2 were on, and lo, the warrior Drew hath swatted a hit that knockethed in a run. Thy father writhed in anguish before the tele-Vision, and the Nation passed alive unto the swamps of Tampa.
O people of el-Bronx: thou rootest for thy team, and it is Good. For it is meet and right that the Bronxites shall cleave unto the Bombers howeversomuch they be reviled in Beantown, for their stripes are pleasing to the Lord, and also their haircuts.
But to root against thy rival is an abomination. Thou delightest that they be laid low by the tribe named after a minor fish of the sea, which meriteth the weeping and gnashing which now thou sufferest, selah.
Go and sin no more (and if thou not jinxeth it, the Rays might still win).
(All in fun, Redsox people. All in fun.)
PS Today at noon we’ll be knitting in the Winter Garden of the World Financial Center with our friend Ina’s charity-knitting group. This will be about the happiest thing happening at the World Financial Center these days, so if you’re nearby, bring your knitting and join us.