O, lovely summer sun, that disappears when the mighty Bostons march into the home of the Tampa Bay tormentors. O, cruel irony, that the squad giving our fair base-ball heroes such a prolonged case of agitation carries the moniker of sunshine! For everyone knows these days of the Bostons' unfortunate performance when shielded from the life-giving rays of the firey orb!Indeed, the Bostons' dismal appearances in the Sunshine State have given Rooters little in which to revel this base-ball season. Consider the heroic night by the Lil' Hands Pedroia, in which he belted a four-ply drive and a three-bagger followed by a pair of gutsy two-sack punches. What reward does the bantam basher receive for his ash-stroked goodness? A corps of hurlers that offer meaty pills to the hungry swatters of the Tampa crew, gagging up a two-plate "lead" and leaving the Bostons in a difficult pinch.
It is last of the eighth chapter and the wireless announcers' glum voices are those of the entire Rooter nation. As Hurdy Chadwick signs off to prepare his night-time routine of Duffy's Pure and salted pork, he asks Rooters and U.S. Americans alike to plead to The Almighty for base-ball heroics to return to the arms and ash batons of the Boston squad.
Will we wake tomorrow to hear that the Bostons made a thrilling escape from the dark clutches of sunless Tampa Bay, Florida? That much is unclear. But following this unfortunate stretch of matches, the Olde Towne Team must pull up their collective britches to face another foe tomorrow: The Gotham Yankees.
Onward, gentlemen!
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