A Dodger Christmas Carol

Twas the day before opening day, and all through the Ravine, everyone was stirring, it was so serene,

The uniforms were hung by the lockers with care, knowing soon that Clayton Kershaw and the rest of the Dodgers soon would be there,

The Dodger fans were nestled all snug in their seats, with visions in their heads of World Series and  championship feats,

And Stacie in her old Gagne-like cap, and me in my Dodger Blue hat, We had just settled our brains for a long summer’s grasp,

When out on the field there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my Box Seat, to see what was the matter,

Onto the field, Kershaw flew like the flash, along with the rest of the Dodgers, fan’s cameras would flash,

The sun on the breast of the new fallen day, reflected a luster off of Kershaw’s fastball they say,

The Dodgers were winning 2-1 in the ninth frame, one last time through the Giant’s lineup, Kershaw would tame,

Clayton Kershaw-Kirby Lee/Image of Sport-USA TODAY Sports

Tootblan Theriot, found a way to get on, He leaned into a pitch, his shadiness was second to none,

When who to my wandering eyes should appear at the plate, but the Giant’s annoying catcher Buster Posey, looking to rake,

Without any steroids, Posey’s bat was lively and quick, he wore a Giant’s uniform, Dodger fans screamed “You’re a prick!”,

Soaring faster than eagles, Kershaw’s fastballs they came, “Strike one!”, the umpire said, Kershaw was indeed on his game,

“Strike two!”, the umpire declared, Kershaw’s Curve caught the plate, Posey looked pained, and wasn’t prepared,

Dodger fans rejoiced, and shouted with glee, Vin Scully announced, Kershaw’s command was indeed a sight to see,

Kershaw’s changeup would dance, his fastballs would fly, Posey swung wildly and missed, striking out, we all knew why,

From the pavilions, to the box seats, to the top deck, the excitement grew, Dodger Stadium cheered, Dodger fans all knew,

And then in a waddling I heard from on deck, the portly third sacker, to the plate he would step,

His name was Sandoval, Dodger fans rose to their feet, he did some annoying little ritual, he tapped his bat to his cleat,

He was dressed all in orange and black from his head to his foot, his bat was covered in pine tar, his batting helmet covered in soot,

His bat he would raise and rest on his back, Kershaw looked in for a sign, wound-up and he threw, “try to hit that Jack!” he said as his fastball flew,

“He’s a fatso, a Bum! He waddles like a fairy!”, Dodger fans heckled. The umpire yelled “play ball!”, you could hear him, but barely,

His dry little mouth was curved downward, like he was frowning, when facing Kershaw he knew he was drowning,

Sandoval’s bat he clenched tight with his hands, Kershaw’s pitches soared past him, oh what a sight for the fans,

He had a fat face, and a big old pot belly, it shook when he whiffed like a bowl full of jelly,

Sandoval was chubby and plump, he looked nothing like an elf, I chuckled as he walked back to the dugout, and I laughed to myself,

Clayton Kershaw-Robert Mayer-USA TODAY Sports

With a wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Kershaw mowed down the Giant’s lineup, Dodger fans had nothing to dread,

He spoke not a word, and went straight to his work, making the Giant faithful all look like a jerk,

Don Mattingly rose a finger, and called for a play, Kershaw whirled around, picked off Theriot, sending him back to the bay,

Kershaw sprang to his feet once the last out was recorded, I love LA blared, the press box recorded,

When we heard Scully exclaim, oh what a sight! The Dodgers had won, and to all a good night!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from Lasorda’s Lair! Thank you for reading!