The Weathered Prayer
The Giants are my team, I shall not want.
They maketh me to panic in green pasture,
They playeth beside still waters, they tortureth my soul.
Torres leadeth off the basepaths, lo his appendix aches.
Yea, though Zito walks 6 through the valley of the shadow of the third
I shall fear no upheaval, for Posey art with me.
Thy bullpen and thy starting staff, they comfort me.
Sanchez prepareth the table before Huff in the presence of nine enemies.
Burrel anointest the pitch with maple, the ball runneth over
Surely goodness and victory shall follow them all the days of my life,
And I shall dwell in the house of the Panda forever.
------------------------------------------------------
The Last Game
Oh, Jason Schmidt bobblehead, patron saint of clutch Giants playoff pitching performances.
Guide this knucklehead as he vanquishes the heathen Padres from our beloved McCovey Cove.
Lead him not into 3-2 counts, but deliver us a victory.
Reign down upon us the power and the glory of splash hit home runs now and forever.
Amen.