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As I strolled through the park on a chilled day in fall,

something strange caught my eye.

A letter, it appeared, and I wondered why

it was taped upon an old brick wall.

 

"To my adoring fans," it cordially begins,

"You probably don't remember me,

I was treated harsh and unfairly,

being blamed for their failure to win."

 

"So as a sign of my forgiveness,

which is embarrasingly long overdue,

my spirit shall haunt you forever. Adieu!

Your Friend (who's also boneless),

Steve Bartman"

 

In panic, I ran straight home,

and a knock on my door,

made me dive to the floor,

knowing the ghost had already flown.

 

But he bust right through!

and floated through the door.

Knowing my life was no more,

I attacked. Alas, he knew.

 

And spinning around he grabbed me,

"Why must you hate?

'Twas not my fate!

And to a Cubs fans, I show no pity"

 

As he went for the kill,

I admitted with a sigh,

"But a simple Sox fan am I!"

His evil smile lost it's thrill.

 

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he cried.

"I should really be on my way.

I've got things to do, fans to slay!"

Little did he know that I lied.

 

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