Bronx Bombers

Our father,

Who art in the Bronx,

Baseball be thy name.

Where hot dogs are on buns,

And championships are won,

On earth as they do in New York.

Give us these days,

The next 2 games,

So we can piss off those who root against us.

And lead us... not, into elimination,

But deliver us to the World Series.

Yet again!

AMEN!