Quote the Gator: "Let's Throw Some More"
(An attempt, probably a bad one, at a truncated parody of E.A. Poe’s “The Raven.”)
Once upon a mid-day bleary, hung-over as hell, weak and weary,
From many a pint of regrettable brew, my head ached; it throbbed like college days of yore.
“Oh!” says I, foggy and slurred. “This will help me help me re-gain my sense.” Total score.
Motown rumbles and bumbles and suddenly fumbles! The Lions are bad; they play so poor
As Orton throws, I smile and think only this: “Rex no more!”
Ah, I distinctly remember, it was in early in November,
And each play brought joy as I kept from falling upon the floor
Eagerly I wished a score; greedily I sought points, more I thought, “Give me more!!”
My joy was crushed as Orton limped away. No. 8 warmed up!! "No f-ing way!!"
Lovie, stop, make him go away and to myself thought I, "Rex no more!”
The Gator goes under center. Hands at my temples rubbing and begging, “Rex, no more!!”
My head was pounding, the boos were sounding; cascading down like Noah's flood
I thought of only the Gator; of only Grossman and nothing more.
Flashbacks filled me, thrilled me with fantastic visions felt seasons before;
To still the beating of my heart, I sat repeating as my hands were kneading.
“Tis just a cramp and nothing more. Kyle will be back. He’ll be back fo’ sho’”
“Tis just a cramp…a cramp and nothing more!”
My soul swayed and sickened to see the Gator’s steps, they quicken.
“Lovie, no! We’ve seen this movie twice before. Rex cannot play, I implore!
The fact is that my head is bumping and thumping from drinks galore
And if Rex keeps playing…oh no, my head is swaying...
I do fear if he keeps throwing, the interception count will keep growing!” Down I fell to the floor.
“Please, Lovie!!” Begged I, “Rex no more!!”
Long I sat there peering; pondering; fearing;
“Lovie!! Bears are doomed. Doomed like they were before!”
Thoughts of futility: Cubs and Sox, Super bowl XLI, dreams shattered.
And the next words that were spoken, laced with vulgarity as the silence was broken, “Rex no more.
I’ll play better than he….Rex can kiss my…knee!! Please Lovie, Rex no more.”
These words I swore. These words and more.
To the fridge ran I with my head turning; deep within, my stomach churning;
Deeper still, my soul was burning, burning for Da’ Bears of yore.
Samurai Mike could stop Rex cold; No. 95 was big and bold; simply, the greatest team ever.
Ditka would not give the Gator, a chance to lose, “Kid, see ya’ later.” Super bowl XX; what a score!
Food will make this mess better, at least better than it was before.
“What is this healing balm!?” A bag of Lil’ Chocolate Doughnuts! Happiness from the store.
Back to the couch I slumped and swilled; my massive maw, Lil' Doughnut filled;
Playoff dreams bashed like a pinada; spirits rocked to their core;
Rex the Hex is throwing again; my team is up ----creek without an oar.
Little doubt Papa Bear is spinning; little doubt his hide is more than sore.
If Halas and Sweetness could rise once more; in unison we three would roar:
“Lovie, we’ve seen this; we’ve seen this before!! Please, Lovie! Rex no more!!"
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