By James Finn Garner
After one of the most memorable exits in baseball history last night, today belongs to Mariano Rivera. As a salute, here’s a reprint of a poem from the nail-biting 2009 post-season. So long, Sandman.
When your son asks you advice on mascara,
When your head’s a-flame and your mouth’s a Sahara,
When that small, still voice inside prattles like Berra–
I’ve got two words:
Mariano Rivera.
When you’re uprooted and force-marched to some terra
Incognita, a dark, doomed hell where a perky Sarah
Palin is president and not just a chimera–
I’ve got two words:
Mariano Rivera.
When you yearn for escape and consider hara-
Kiri–Breathe deep, relax, don a fresh guayabera,
And watch the greatest hero since Before the Common Era–
He’ll bless you and keep you:
Mariano Rivera.
One Mo time,
That was always the rhyme.
Now The Sandman is going to sleep,
And we at Yankee Stadium cheer –
and weep.
Well said.