Last dance. Last dance for love. Yes, its my last chance for romance, tonight. -Donna Summer
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Curt Schilling. Schill the Thrill. Taking the hill. Taking the hill with the skills to pay the bills. Acoording to ESPN, Curt Schilling could return to the hill with the skills to bay the bills this season in a comeback that likely involves the American League-champion Tampa Bay Rays or the Chicago Cubs. I like it. I like it a lot.
Say what you want about Schill. Call him a blabber mouth. Call him Red Light. Call him Red Light like his teammates in Arizona used to call him. Called him that for the way he turned on for the TV cameras. Call him anything you like. But you better call him a champion too. Because that is what he is. A champion’s champion. A man among men. The stuff legends are made. Manny being Manny is one thing, but Schilling being Schilling is a sight to behold.
The biggest big game pitcher you ever did see. Schilling: “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet better than me in a game that matters.” Neither do I. Since Schilling has been out of baseball with injury, there’s been a lot of talk about his legacy. Like my main man Benjamin Disraeli always says, “The legacy of heroes is the memory of a great name and the inheritance of a great example.”
Curt Schilling is a great name. Curt Schilling is a great example. Like my main Lionel Hutz said about Homer Simpson, “I don’t use the word ‘hero’ very often, but you are the greatest hero in American history.”
It’s like a light of a new day. It came from out of the blue. Breaking me out of the spell I was in. Making all of my wishes come true-ue-ue. That’s what Curt Schilling did. Broke me out of my spell. Made all of my wishes come true-ue-ue. Broke me out of my spell back in 2004. Back in 2004 when he showed up in his Yankees hater cap. Showed up in his Yankees hater cap and said: “I’ve got an eighty-six year curse to break.” Like John freaking Wayne. Like John freaking Wayne, Schilling came in here with True Grit and said to them Damn Yankees “Fill your hands you sonnaofabitch!”
About time. About time somebody came in here and gave us self-loathing Red Sox fans the kick in the pants we needed. Kicked us in the pants and gave us a reason to believe. So while Curt Schilling’s career is all but over, you can jibber about his legacy. You can jabber about the Hall of Fame. You can jibber and jabber ’til the cows come home, but know this: It just doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter. Not to me anyway.
It just doesn’t matter because his place is firmly cemented in my heart. Firmly cemented in my heart due to one fateful night in October. One beautiful night in October. One glorious night in October. One fateful, beautiful, glorious night in October, Schilling delivered the most dramatic and historically significant performance of his career. One fateful, beautiful, glorious night in October, Schilling delivered the most dramatic and historically significant game of my life. That night, all my fears were put to bed. That night, all my dreams were fulfilled. That night, Curt Schilling made believers of us all.
Now, he’ll be back to make believers of Cubs or Rays fans. Hooray Curt Schilling!
Peace out homies. Six two and Even!