The Wreck of the Liberty's Season
(Sung to the tune of "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot)
The legend lives on from Hudson on down
Of the big place they call MSG
The teams that play there have been called unfair
To the fans who love them, like me
With a team full of rooks, the court's wood had shook
With the preseason basketball there.
The Liberty weren't dreamed to be much of a team
But the ladies, the thought they would dare.
Erin Thorn could shoot, as none could refute
And Christon and Battle could play
Davenport had game, and she couldn't be blamed
For Hammon's walk gone astray.
"McCarville and Moore," Kraayeveld roared,
"Could rid the last season from minds."
The haters assured that New York was not cured
But the Libs, they thought it was time.
It started out well, as anyone could tell,
With five wins and no losses to mention
Then came the game against the Detroit dames
And with a beating, the fans felt the tension
Again, shock found the team against Indiana's cream
The Fever did sour their feelin'
And later that week when Washington was beat
It was found the win brought no healin'
There were two losing games before another win came,
And the Liberty's hearts had turned sour
Saint Patty knew well, that the season'd turned to hell
But she knew of her ladies' power.
They struggled mightily, and of course, vitally
As the losses kept mounting each night.
They lost ten more rounds, the playoffs came down
And the Libs were out of the fight.
There was a game against the Sky, for one more try
As Washington beat on the Sun.
Like the season - it's a crime - they played well at times
But with no passion, it couldn't be done
What could anyone do, save the Liberty few,
As they realized they must pay the toll?
They wept on their play as they all rued the day
When they'd started diggin' their own hole
The game was on the line, but no one played fine
Could no Lib be brought to reason?
The buzzer rang then, and of course, that's when
Came the wreck of the Liberty's season.
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