For all but four teams, tomorrow and the day after mark the opening of another season of baseball. For many of us, tonight is reminiscent of Christmas Eve, but not just any Christmas Eve, the Christmas Eves that we experienced as children and have sadly become incapable of recreating in our adulthood.

Somehow, the game of baseball is able to bridge a gap between childhood and adulthood in a fashion for which not even the Western World’s favourite holiday is capable.

And so, may I present to you, a special late night treat:

Twas The Night Before Opening Day

Twas the night before Opening Day, and all through the league
Not a worry was stirring, not even for Brian Wilson’s arm fatigue.
The PECOTA projections were figured with care,
In hopes that a playoff visit soon would be there.

We all looked to the future and not at the past.
As visions of World Series aspirations were cast.
Settling maybe for a new jersey or a New Era cap,
It didn’t appear that this summer at all we’d nap.

Due to a change that arose with such clatter,
We visited baseball blogs to see what was th’ matter.
Away to that websites we clicked like a flash,
Only because for ESPN Insider we would not pay the cash.

Our hope on the breast of a very new season
Gave lustre to faith only to be ruined by reason.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But another Wild Card added without any fear.

Now Oakland! now, Braves! now, White Sox and Rays!
On, Colorado! On, Brewers! on, Phillies and Jays!
To the top of the standings! to the top of the division!
Time to commence another year of our summer religion.

And then, in a twinkling, all of us hunched over
Overwhelmed by knowing we’d be in it ’til October.
As I drew in my head, feeling utterly at ease,
Along came a World Series hero, the estimable David Freese.

We’d hated the Cardinals, we’d despised them so;
Their winning made us glad to see Albert Pujols go.
But with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us to know that we had nothing to dread.

The Cardinals, they showed us, what a season could be,
Even for the Astros whose best player is still Carlos Lee
That’s the best part of Spring, we can all still be hopeful
For our teams haven’t started those streaks that are woeful.

Freese dressed for the game, to his team gave a whistle,
And away St. Louis flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove a ball beyond reason,
“Happy baseball to all, and to all a good-season!”