We Yankee Band Of Brothers

From my old teammate Lyn Lary
On the eve of battle...

     This day shall be the feast upon Texas.
     He that outlives these innings, and comes safe home,
     Will stand a tip-toe when this day is warbl'd,
     And rouse him at the name of Rangers.
     He that shall live this day, and advance to halladay,
     Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
     And say 'To-morrow is the day we devour’d Ryan’s band.'
     Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
     And say 'These wounds I had at the ALCS.'
     Old men forget (they mostly play for us); yet all shall be forgot,
     But Sterling will remember, with advantages,
     What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
     Familiar in John’s mouth as household warblings-
     Mariano the King, Jeter and Jorge,
     Pettitte and Alex, The Bear and Cano-
     Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
     This story shall the good man teach his son;
     And Ryan and Texas shall ne'er go by us,
     From this day to the Series of the World,
     But we in it shall be remembered-
     We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
     For he to-day that sheds Texan blood with me
     Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
     This day shall gentle his condition;
     And gentlemen in the Bronx now-a-bed (this means you, Vazquez)
     Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
     And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
     That fought with us in Bush and Ryan’s house.