I can still hear the roar of the Fenway Faithful
From whenever you came up to the plate
I can still see you going through your routine
Tightening your gloves, and tapping your toes
It sure drove opposing pitchers crazy
I can still sense the fear of every pitcher
Who dared to face your quick bat
As a rookie you were a prodigy
And in your final years you were a mentor
Somewhere along the way you made a family
Whom you can now attend more often
I can still hear the loud crack of the bat,
And the sight of the ball as it goes over the monster
I can still see that red number five on your jersey
I can feel the pain of when you were sent away
I followed from Boston, to Chicago, to LA, to Oakland
I can still remember a cold October day
When two women were in peril,
And you saved the day
You were part of the dream, as an Olympic athlete
Before I was even born
Every year you seemed to find a way
To be on that diamond, on which you would play
Even as your glory faded near the end
I remained loyal and hopeful that one day
You would return to Boston just one more day
You did with a smile, and ended it here
I guess you were destined in Boston to thrive
As we celebrate your legacy
Good ole numbah five