In honor of our season starting tomorrow, I've composed a poem. I would like to dedicate it to Ken Macha and the entirety of Athletics Nation.
Here's to hoping!
`Twas the eve of the season and all through the nation
The A's fans were waiting in anticipation
The bats had been hung by the dugout with care
In hopes that good mojo would visit them there
The players were nestled all snug in their beds
Some with bears, some with blondes, and our one lone redhead
And Macha with his gum and his fancy new hat
Was just getting ready for his summer-long nap
When out on the field there arose such a roar
Ken reacted with speed never noticed before
Past the press box, the dugout, the green field of play,
He ran faster than Colon at a Vegas buffet.
The moon on the grass of the freshly-mowed field
Shown a beacon of light on the one it revealed.
When what to Ken's wondering eyes should appear
But old Connie Mack and a six-pack of beer.
As he offered one up, he said with a smile,
"I've been reading AN now for quite a long while"
Monkeyball is a hoot and Nico's just dandy
And there's a rumor that Crosby is covered in candy
Huston's locked in Jen's basement, awaiting release,
I think someone by now should have called the police.
Hatty will be missed; he bled green and gold.
He'll forever be part of the stories of old.
The new guys are here; the jury's still out
Will Thomas stay healthy? There's always a doubt.
Will Bradley get angry? You make the call.
You'll win the West if he takes it out on the ball."
And then with a stern look, he issued a warning,
"Tomorrow's the day, season begins in the morning
I have some suggestions taken straight from the source
Advice from crafty posters on AN, of course.
Some numbers for Kendall, the first one is nine
As in batting ninth--last--the end of the line
Second number is four, the pitchers he'll catch
Giving Melhuse a chance with power numbers to match
Next thing is the bunt, and the old hit-and-run
Used correctly, can be a source of great fun
Your best bet for basestealing was traded away,
So we're back to the basics of Moneyball play
Injuries are a problem; they are every year
But there are precautions to take to lessen that fear
For starters, keep Crosby encased in a bubble,
And Harden away from the pesky clock trouble."
His eyes--how they twinkled! His presence was great.
Ken Macha was awed at this new twist of fate
This was the manager that he longed to be
With a championship ring; or two; or three.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Drove home the fact that Macha had nothing to dread
He spoke one more word, and then turned to go
Leaving Macha to his second chance at the show
Macha awoke, as if from a dream
And remembered the night; each moment, each scene
He vowed that he would not let his second chance pass
"Things will be different! We're kicking some ass!
Ozzie Gullien's got nothing; I have double the team
Plus the magic GM, a one Billy Beane"
He turned to the sky, and started to sing
"This is it! I'm all in! I'm getting the ring!"
He ran back to work, and sent the gum flying
He logged onto AN with the handle IMTRYING
He read all the posts and the diaries too
He created a signature in sparkly bright blue
Ignoring the critics; Joe Morgan and crew
He created lineups, and game notes, and pitching plans too
He worked through the night, getting everything set
Aware that the players would soon arrive at the Net.
Knowing his hard work would pay off in spades,
He expected results in a matter of days.
And finished, he exclaimed through his patented grin,
HAPPY BASEBALL TO ALL, AND MAY THE OAKLAND A'S WIN!