Toothless at the Bar ~ Winning the World Series in '04

TOOTHLESS AT THE BAR 

(Winning the World Series in '04)

Words by Gwendolyn Soper   ©2004

My ninety-year-old grandpa

Said when he was just a kid

The Red Sox won the series.

Fenway ruled the world, they did.

Then Babe went to the Yankees.

“Big deal”, young Gramps said, “You’ll see.

Someday we’ll win again!

I’ll wait.  We’ll sweep a victory.”

Years came and went, Gramp’s eyes grew dim,

But his hope shone stronger yet.

“Just wait”, he said, “We’ve got the goods.

Besides, I made a bet.”

His old friend Nick and he,

When they were four years old,

Had bet on favorite teams way back—

Six and eighty years ago.

Nick bet on the Yanks, Babe was his man.

Gramps for the Sox, of course.

Hotdogs a nickel, and rootbeer for less,

Bought from a cart with a horse.

Sitting on the curb on Yawkey Way

They finished their lunch with the bet.

Raising mugs of rootbeer each cheered,

“My team will win the series, yet!”

Last night, the trophy raised,

The Red Sox claimed their due!

Gramps won the bet that survived world wars,

And the first man on the moon.

Nick’s paying up tonight

At the pub near Fenway Park:

A drink on him.  Rootbeer, no less.

And Gramp’s smiling, toothless, at the bar.