‘Twas the night before Cub-mas

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All I want for Christmas is Masahiro Tanaka.

‘Twas the night before Cub-mas, when all through the town
not a creature was stirring, and attendance was down.
The stockings were hung from the rooftops with care
in hopes that contention soon would be there.

Cub fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of .500 danced in their heads;
and Theo in a kerchief, and Jed in a blue cap,
had settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out in Japan there arose such a clatter,
we all wanted to see what was the matter.
Away to the Twitter we flew in a hurry,
read all the news and the stories without worry.

The Golden Eagles of Ratuken, in the land of Japan
had posted a pitcher who was in high demand.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
but a pitcher who hadn’t been beat in a year.
To bring our prospects a load of good cheer-oh,
we knew in a moment it must be Masahiro.
More rapid than fastballs his suitors they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Yankees! Now, Dodgers! Now, Rangers and Cubs!
and any other surprise contender clubs!
To the top of the game! To the top of the world!
Now show me all of your contracts unfurled!”
And we heard him exclaim, in a voice loud and clear:
“Happy bidding to all, and I’ll see you next year!”