Inspired by murdertron3000's excellent "Twas the Night Before Pitchmas" and William Shakespeare's "Henry V"
Scene
Early Tuesday Morning
The Mets huddle around a fire, lamenting Gee’s loss and the lack of run support
Enter DAVID WRIGHT
DILLON GEE
O that we now had here
But one of those men in Vegas or Binghamton
That play no games today!
DAVID WRIGHT
What’s he that wishes so?
My friend Gee? No, my fair DIllon:
If we are mark’d to die, we are enough
To do our country loss: and to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of WINZ.
Dickey’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Dickey, I am not covetous for WINS
Nor care I who doth sit upon my bench
It yearns me not if Puello my garments wears;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires
But if it be a sin to covet wins,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, Terry, wish not a man from Binghamton
Awakened now from sorrow and slumber, the team gathers around WRIGHT
DAVID WRIGHT
This day is called the feast of Mattenzack
He that outlives this day, and comes safe to Citi
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Mattenzack.
He that shall win this day, and see a World Series win
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Mattenzack"
Then will he raise his glove and show his scars.
And say "These batters I struck out on Mattenzack’s day"
Fair weather fans forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What men he mowed down that day; then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as household words
David the Third, Harvey and Wheeler,
Murphy and Duda, Buck and Parnell,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembere’d.
This story shall the good Mets fan teach his children
And Mattenzack shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered.
As grins begin to spread across their faces, the team turns as ZACK WHEELER and MATT HARVEY flank WRIGHT. WRIGHT looks at them and smiles.
DAVID WRIGHT
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that takes the field with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall raise him up
And gentlemen in Vegas now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here!
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Mattenzack’s day!!!
With a roar, the team lifts WRIGHT, WHEELER, and HARVEY onto their shoulders, abandons the fire, and charges off into battle
You know the rest.
LET’S GO METS!
LET’S GO METS!
LET’S GO METS!