Excerpts from ''King George III,'' the newly discovered play penned by William Shakespeare.
ACT I, SCENE I. February. In a field. Thunder and lightning.
RIZZUTO: Single, double; bullpen trouble.
Owner burn and pitcher bubble.
Though great'st by far his minions be,
They're not great'st by far, enough, for he.
What huckl'berries these mortals be!
YOGI: 'Tis deja vu -- again, I see.
Enter George, holding ball.
GEORGE: O'er my hearth doth hang the bejeweled broom of series swept.
Yet the stone floor mocks surly 'neath a new season's dirt.
O, budget: thou art paid to brutish beasts!
O, Bernie! O, Jeter! O, Rivera! O'Neill!
And Good David Wells! The hurler burly! Paw of south!
Thane of ale and team!
ALL: Maker of the perfect game!
GEORGE: Ye hath restored the crown to its rightful throne.
Alas, one soul whose yonder curveball breaks
Holds my heart in his split-fingered grip.
O, Roger Clemens, rocket of northern skies domed.
No owner hath lesser need for thee, and yet:
This is the A.L. East, and Roger is the Cy Young.
RIZZUTO: Holy cow! His heart's imprison'd!
YOGI: To be, it is. To b'not, it isn't.
Keep going...
"What huckl'berries these mortals be" is the greatest thing ever written by anybody. I can't believe I missed this when it first ran back in '99.
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