There's a dome in St. Pete called The Trop.
Protecting fans from the almighty raindrop.
Her future is murky,
Her rings a bit quirky,
But for the Rays, she's a hell of of Backstop.
Weird winds blowing through Fenway last night. Did you notice how Boston's bombs were being sucked in the general direction of Florida? Along with critical throws from the hand of Longoria and Gross?
It's as if some force greater than baseball was determined to see a Game 6 played there.
Like a jilted lover watching the object of her affection slip into the warm embrace of an older woman, The Trop girded her loins. Graciously hosting legions of Red Sox loving bandwagoners has made her a tough broad. And street smart. The Rays were annointed AL East Champions deep within the bowels of Comerica Park and their ALDS victory was celebrated at U.S. Cellular Field. She'd had a taste of playoff bubbly when the Rays clinched a playoff spot in September and she wanted more. Having studied the long odds against back to back League Championships and knowing her days may be numbered, The Trop reversed her almighty blowers and pulled the series back to St. Pete.
Sportswriters will quibble over Maddon's bullpen management and credit Francona's genius in putting Papelbon on the mound in the 7th inning, but The Trop knows her boys play better with an edge. She roughed 'em up a little last night. Not just to bring the party home, but to put the team in the right frame of mind for The World Series. Oh, and she's really sorry about wasting a K-K-K-K-K-K-K-Kazmir gem, but she knows what's best for you.
Don't let her down boys. She and her rings have your back. Show her the love.
