‘Twas the night before Opening Day, when all through Sox Nation,
All the players were stirring, ready to take their stations.
The cleats were hung in the clubhouse with care, with hopes that the fans soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of home runs danced in their heads.
And Mamma in her jersey, and I in my cap, had just awakened from a long winter’s nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter, and I ran to my seat to see what was the matter.
Off to the Grand Stands I ran in a dash, to see Pedey’s ball hit the Monster with a crash.
He rounded first to beat the fielder’s throw, and slid into second, missing the tag just below.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear, but thirty-eight thousand on their feet with cheer.
Then Mookie stepped up so lively and quick, and I knew in a moment that this would be it.
With a crack of his bat, to me the ball came,
And Pedey slid home to win us the game.
He sprang to his feet to give his team a shout, and ran his way over to the ecstatic dugout.
But just before he disappeared out of sight, he shouted to us:
Happy Opening Day to all, and to all a good night!