'twas the night before kickoff; A great poem written by a Football Fan

[theASSspeaks]

I saw this on a message board and decided to post it here. I think it captures some of the feelings of a crazed football nation.

Written by TacoJohn

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'Twas the night before Kick-off, and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except me and my mouse;

Surfing the Internet, with eyes in a stare

hoping some new information would present itself there.

I was previously nestled, all snug in my bed

with visions of touchdown dances in my head.

And my wife in her nighty, the cat in her lap

knows that Sundays are mine, for a game and a nap.

When up in my head arose such a clatter,

I sat up straight to attend to the matter.

Away to the Internet I flew like a flash,

How did the opposing corner do in the 40 yard dash?

And will our quarterback earn all that dough

and can he do better than he did a season ago?

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But endless statistics, of days past and last year.

I poured over them, so lively and quick,

If I can't watch football now, stats will have to do the trick.

I dissected those stats, game after game,

With box-scores in my head, but it wasn't the same;

Now rush them, now sack them, now cover, now blitz them!

Now pass it, now run it, that cheerleader's a vixen!

Now look at the scoreboard! Up there on the wall!

We're beating them soundly! Both sides of the ball!

In my mind, games of past like a hurricane fly,

With points on the scoreboard, and fireworks in the sky

And thoughts of that other coach, as he sits and he stews,

With a face full of rage, his hair falling out too.

And our coach is smiling, his gameplan is foolproof

while opposing fans cry, and look all aloof.

Our runningback's on fire, as he's running around,

Easily gaining over a hundred yards on the ground.

He's sneaking and snaking, from left to right foot,

And his uniform is dirty, from all the output;

The linemen are blocking, and getting his back,

And they keep the defenders from getting a sack.

The quarterback's arm -- making their defense so weary!

He scrambles in the pocket, his moves are so scary!

He's calling the cadence, making defenders go,

I can't wait to see this guy play in the snow!

And the opposing offense, gritting their teeth,

As our defenders pile on, their runningback beneath;

He held the ball tightly, right near his belly,

Then we shook, and we took, as if his arms were like jelly.

Their quarterback shaken, the backup will come off the shelf,

And I laughed when I saw him throw the ball to himself;

A tear his eye and a hang in his head,

Our defenders barking and drooling, filling him with dread;

Our coach kept piling on, paying off all that work,

And filled up the scoreboard; thier coach looks like a jerk,

Up on the scoreboard, the score rose and rose,

Many points on our side, on the other side zeros!

And at the last tick of the clock the ref blew his whistle,

with the ball sailing toward the endzone like a missle.

And as I snapped out of it, I regained my sight,

"HAPPY SUNDAY TO ALL, AND ALSO MONDAY-NIGHT!"

[Symbol]

That was beautiful man... :cry: I love football.

[yank]

Awesome ...

[theASSspeaks]

Football is not a hobby, its a lifestyle!

[Darth Tater]

And Madden is asking what is a vixen?

[PCS]

Sniff. A moment of silence please. (Bows head). The author can have my Bud LIght..........er one of them.