My name, is Daisuke Matsuzaka.
In my native land I have thrown over 200 pitches in a single game.
In America, I go 5 1/3 while walking many and sometimes going down in flames.
The myth of my "gyro ball" grew far beyond its years.
In reality, it is a slider, thrown with a little more flair.
I work around the zone, picking my spots.
If I throw it down the middle, home runs they will hit, and I mean lots.
I fly back and forth to Japan at least once a week.
Writing that last line, I think I felt something tweak.
James Andrews, was it my arm? My shoulder? My leg.
No Daisuke, I'm afraid to say, it's all in your head.
Don't know if I felt oddly creative this morning, or Daisuke's old man face he's making above made me think he was some ancient warrior, or at least the star of an old Bruce Lee movie, and worthy of some sort of poem. Dicey did throw a few innings though without incident yesterday. Too bad it's snowing out today so I can't find the positive in anything.
8 more days.
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