"An Ode to Mighty Edgar and the Champion Orange and Black"

An original Giants fan ("OG, for short; get it?) emailed me this poem someone wrote in the wake of the San Francisco Giants' World Series win.

I did a Google search to find out the author but got zero hits. So at this point, it's by Anonymous, who clearly is a hardcore Giants fan. Cornball, yes, but cool nonetheless.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Giants by the Bay

Though they'd gotten past Atlanta, they were facing Halladay.

The Phillies were clear favorites, they swung a mighty bat.

But Bochy's band of misfits was having none of that.

Giants fever swept The City, awash in orange and black.

They would play the Texas Rangers, who had turned the Yankees back.

Timmy pitched Game 5, the Giants needed one.

With no score until the seventh, SF was hoping for a run.

Cody singled up the middle, and Uribe did the same.

Huff laid down a sacrifice worthy of acclaim.

Burrell went down on strikes, sending Edgar to the plate.

He sauntered to the box with an easy-going gait.

And now we see the pitch and see Edgar's eyes aglow.

And now the air is shattered by the force of Edgar's blow.

And somewhere folks are laughing, and little children shout.

This is happening in San Francisco, because Renteria hit one out.

Might Edgar indeed.