Mr. Kotter
12-22-2004, 11:29 PM
My Christmas present to the Planet. Merry Christmas, everyone.... :thumb:
'Twas the night before the Playoffs, when all through the Stadium,
Not a Chief’s fan was stirring--not even the GM.
The offense had been assembled by Dick with great care,
in hopes that a defense, soon would be there.
Cunningham was brought in, to save CP’s head,
”Gun will save the ‘D’,” Carl and Dick said;
and while Dalton and Allen have been nice chaps,
CP and Lamar are convinced the fans are saps.
The pre-season began with Super Bowl chatter,
but soon it was clear that something was a matter.
During an 0-3 start, the ‘D’ looked like trash,
with no middle linebacker, though Lamar still had cash.
The moon in Baltimore showed us the team that we know,
but then the Jags quickly proved that we blow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
victories over the mighty Falcons and Colts to cheer!
At 3-4, fans thought the Chiefs had been fixed,
but four straight losses our season did nix.
Then, three meaningless wins--draft position did wane,
but it wasn't as bad as "Plummergate" at the 'Mane.
"Now, Warfield! Now, Allen! Now, Fujita and Beisel,
On, Sims! On, Wesley! On Harts and on Mitchell;”
”Kick Oakland’s ass, and defeat Martyball,
Sack Collins, sack Brees, or away with you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Intercept those lame bastards, or at the very least—try!
So to a .500 season, the mighty Chiefs flew,
a season of joy, but lots of sorrow too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on Sports Talk,
the promise and posturing of Free Agents who’ll walk.
As rekindled hopes, of a quick turn-around,
rest with a front office that always let’s us down.
Carl was upbeat, and Dick effervescent,
”We’ll fix this team,” they said as if they meant it.
Free agent Ends, Corners, and Backers,
will soon replace our pathetic slackers!
Their eyes -- how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!
Their voices cracked with the emotion of a fairy!
Their droll little mouths were drawn up like bows,
while their white teeth gleamed bright as the snow.
And while tears of a woman flowed from Dick’s cheek;
CP rushed out, a washed-up free agent to seek!
Skill, size, and speed must be added in the draft;
or Dick and Carl will soon need a life raft.
For fans have grown tired of the “five-year plan,”
one more mediocre season is all they can stand.
So, with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Dick gave us hope--“You have nothing to dread.”
Dick spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
on Guinta, Pegac, and Hairston—Dick went beserk!
Dick and his coaches, they reviewed film and made calls,
to college seniors, free agents, and guys with big balls.
With a cover corner, and a pass rushing end,
Gunther should reverse the defensive trend.
The final pieces of the puzzle: a wide receiver and a “mike,”
will produce an exciting team—one that the fans will surely like.
But I heard Dick exclaim, as he left for River Falls,
“Next year, it’s the Lombardi—or I’ll be hitting golf balls.”
'Twas the night before the Playoffs, when all through the Stadium,
Not a Chief’s fan was stirring--not even the GM.
The offense had been assembled by Dick with great care,
in hopes that a defense, soon would be there.
Cunningham was brought in, to save CP’s head,
”Gun will save the ‘D’,” Carl and Dick said;
and while Dalton and Allen have been nice chaps,
CP and Lamar are convinced the fans are saps.
The pre-season began with Super Bowl chatter,
but soon it was clear that something was a matter.
During an 0-3 start, the ‘D’ looked like trash,
with no middle linebacker, though Lamar still had cash.
The moon in Baltimore showed us the team that we know,
but then the Jags quickly proved that we blow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
victories over the mighty Falcons and Colts to cheer!
At 3-4, fans thought the Chiefs had been fixed,
but four straight losses our season did nix.
Then, three meaningless wins--draft position did wane,
but it wasn't as bad as "Plummergate" at the 'Mane.
"Now, Warfield! Now, Allen! Now, Fujita and Beisel,
On, Sims! On, Wesley! On Harts and on Mitchell;”
”Kick Oakland’s ass, and defeat Martyball,
Sack Collins, sack Brees, or away with you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Intercept those lame bastards, or at the very least—try!
So to a .500 season, the mighty Chiefs flew,
a season of joy, but lots of sorrow too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on Sports Talk,
the promise and posturing of Free Agents who’ll walk.
As rekindled hopes, of a quick turn-around,
rest with a front office that always let’s us down.
Carl was upbeat, and Dick effervescent,
”We’ll fix this team,” they said as if they meant it.
Free agent Ends, Corners, and Backers,
will soon replace our pathetic slackers!
Their eyes -- how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!
Their voices cracked with the emotion of a fairy!
Their droll little mouths were drawn up like bows,
while their white teeth gleamed bright as the snow.
And while tears of a woman flowed from Dick’s cheek;
CP rushed out, a washed-up free agent to seek!
Skill, size, and speed must be added in the draft;
or Dick and Carl will soon need a life raft.
For fans have grown tired of the “five-year plan,”
one more mediocre season is all they can stand.
So, with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Dick gave us hope--“You have nothing to dread.”
Dick spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
on Guinta, Pegac, and Hairston—Dick went beserk!
Dick and his coaches, they reviewed film and made calls,
to college seniors, free agents, and guys with big balls.
With a cover corner, and a pass rushing end,
Gunther should reverse the defensive trend.
The final pieces of the puzzle: a wide receiver and a “mike,”
will produce an exciting team—one that the fans will surely like.
But I heard Dick exclaim, as he left for River Falls,
“Next year, it’s the Lombardi—or I’ll be hitting golf balls.”